Intimate
by In Hiding
Summary: Intimacy can take many forms. (A series of connected one-shots and short arcs focused on the developing friendship/relationship between Olivia Benson and Rafael Barba. No longer canon-compliant due to dialogue in 20x12.)
1. Warm

**SETTING:** Between 18x8 (Chasing Theo) and 18x9 (Decline and Fall)

As a man of action, Barba wasn't one to sulk. But he also wasn't above it when no amount of action on his part could change the outcome of a situation. Thus, having been told 30 minutes ago in a call from his mother that their Christmas Eve and morning plans were not to be realised, Barba was, indeed, sulking. And as with most things he set his mind to, he was doing so brilliantly.

So when he saw Olivia Benson's name on his call display, he answered in keeping with his current mood. "What's do you need, Lieutenant?"

"I'm not calling for a warrant, so don't worry, Counselor," she said lightly, not particularly put off by his characteristic crankiness. "I was just connecting with the team to make sure everyone was okay."

In spite of himself, Barba found his mood elevated the tiniest bit to be included in her definition of "team". "And?"

"So far, so good. If you're safe and secure, we're batting a thousand."

"All's dandy here," he told her with a sigh. "Sheltering in place as ordered, with a turkey in the oven and my intended house guest stuck across town."

"I'm sorry," Benson said genuinely, softening him all the more; she knew from a recent conversation how much he'd been looking forward to this, how much energy he'd put into the holiday preparations. "Is your mom okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. Just... well, stuck." Barba had already explained that Lucia's church was on a rotation to sponsor and staff Christmas dinner at a local mission, and this was their year. It had been her intention to spend the day volunteering, then spend the night with her son, enjoying a Christmas Eve meal and then Christmas morning together before she headed back to serve lunch. And so she'd been peeling potatoes and precooking turkeys when the storm rolled in. While many volunteers had scuttled off when the winds had started to pick up, Lucia and a few other committed souls were determined that the several hundred people they were preparing to feed the next day needed to be the priority. "At least she's somewhere with beds and a generator and lots of food. She'll probably be better off than me if the power goes out." It finally occurred to him that he hadn't yet asked after her own well being. "What about you? Is Noah excited about a white Christmas?"

"He may actually be the reason for it; he's been wishing for snow for weeks ever since we started watching Christmas movies before bed."

"But...?" Despite the fondness with which she spoke of her son, Barba could hear something in her voice. "Liv, what's going on?"

"Well, you know it as well as I do considering the circumstances: The best laid plans, right? I'm afraid your mom isn't the only one who got stuck."

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was on call today, and had to go to the hospital to interview a rape victim. Things went sideways, and by the time I got free, the "shelter in place" order had come down and my vehicle was snowed in in the parking lot." She sighed heavily. "Thankfully Noah is with Lucy at her grandmothers' place, and I think the prospect of a sleepover will be plenty of Christmas excitement for him. That, and the fact that Lucy has already assured him that Santa will be delivering his gifts to our place and they'll be there when he goes home."

"Liv..."

"Yeah. Thanks," she told him, understanding his unvoiced sentiment. "Anyway, I wasn't calling to be a downer. I really was just checking to make sure you were home and safe."

"I'm happy to commiserate, believe me. I appreciate the call." And wasn't ready for it to end. "So, what hospital are you stuck at, anyway?" When she told him, he did some quick math. "That's only, what? 10 or 11 blocks from here?"

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe a little further."

"Think you can make it on foot?"

Olivia paused. "Barba, it's a blizzard out there. The whole city's shut down."

"Yes, and you've survived considerably worse, in case you need to be reminded." He was warming to the idea now. "Maybe you could flash your badge and get yourself a passenger seat on an ambulance run."

"They've pulled all the ambulances, except for life-or-death emergencies. They can't exactly be expected to make a detour." She chuckled sadly. "Thanks for the offer, though. I'll be fine here."

"Don't give up so easily," he encouraged. "What if I came to you and walked you back?"

"So that BOTH of us could end up frozen in a snowbank? Not your best case, Counselor." He could hear her smile through the phone. "You just stay put and open up your good scotch to keep you warm, and don't worry about me."

"Liv, I've got a whole turkey dinner to share, and my place is already prepared for an overnight guest. I know it's no substitution for time with your son, but it's got to be better than a night in waiting room chairs with the unwashed masses."

Liv's resolve was weakening. "10 or 11 blocks, huh?"

"12, tops. Are you dressed for the weather?"

"More or less, though against all this I'm not sure how effective it'll be."

"I won't force the matter; I want you to be safe, obviously. But I also don't want you stuck there if there's a better alternative."

"Well...Let me ask around and see what things are looking like out there. I'll get back to you."

It turned out Olivia only had to walk three blocks, as she'd taken Barba's advice and had a chat with some of the EMT's on duty. They agreed that if they had a call-out closer than the hospital to her destination, she could ride along and take her chances from there. It was a 45 minute wait to such a call, and almost a half hour drive in the elements, then about 20 minutes on foot backtracking to get to his place.

But when she arrived, he was ready for her, greeting her at the door with a towel for her hair, helping her peel off her soaked outerwear, ushering her directly to his washroom where a hot bath was prepared - complete with a glass of wine on the ledge - and he'd laid out an assortment of dry clothes from which he hoped she'd find something that would fit.

Olivia would have been inclined to be effusive in her genuine appreciation if her chattering teeth and shivering body would have allowed for it. But Barba was intent on her getting warmed up anyway and was both not interested in and not requiring any thanks. He quickly pointed out amenities, including hair dryer and a toothbrush still in it's package, and told her to feel free to snoop for anything else she might need. Then he left her so he could finish dinner preparations.

When she finally joined him in the kitchen, warm and dry and looking relaxed in a pair of his flannel pajama pants and hooded sweater over an old but comfortable GAP tee-shirt, she started to express her gratitude and apologize for the intrusion, but he stopped her. "Don't mention it, really," he said firmly. "Besides, you might decide after tasting my cooking that it wasn't worth the effort after all."

"Based on the way this place smells right now, I'm guessing that won't be the case." She set her empty wine glass on the counter and nodded assent when he gestured to refill it. "So, how can I help? Put me to work."

There wasn't much left to do, so while he finished with the food she busied herself setting the table, taking the time to figure out where things were without asking for much direction. While they worked they chatted easily about the weather, about their current collaborations of open cases, about the new case that had brought her out that afternoon and she would eventually seek his help with. To Olivia it all felt very easy and relaxed, much more so than similar conversations that had happened in their respective offices or in public places.

His apparel may have had something to do with her perception, she recognised. She had rarely seen him in anything other than a tailored suit, and the few times she'd seen him dressed less formally when he'd been called in from a personal engagement he had seemed to her to be just as costumed, playing a role. Even when they would work late into the night and he'd remove his jacket, loosen his tie, roll up his sleeves, it seemed like another "look", still so put together and deliberate.

But what he was wearing now seemed very NON-deliberate, like it was thrown on without a lot of thought about putting forward a public face. Probably because his intended guest had been his mother. That's not to say he looked sloppy, not by any stretch. The dark jeans, the grey V-neck tee-shirt, the rather garish socks, they all fit him well, and Olivia noted objectively that he looked very attractive. The real difference wasn't even the obvious casualness; it was that he didn't wear these clothes like armour.

Olivia chose not to mention it. Instead, she simply appreciated that he apparently hadn't thought it necessary to change on her account. And maybe it was the wine, but she also in a moment of weakness appreciated the way his unexpectedly toned arms were accentuated by the sleeves of his rather tight shirt.

Barba could also recognise that the atmosphere between them was lighter than usual. And while he'd certainly had occasion to see her in clothes that were considerably more casual than her work attire due to the amount of times he'd shown up unannounced at her door when she was home with her son, something about her in HIS clothes, barefoot despite the sock options he'd provided, hair in a messy pony tail and face scrubbed free of makeup, was definitely contributing to their interactions. Not consciously, of course. But definitely.

What WAS conscious to him was that he was very happy she was there, and while he was saddened that his plans with his mother had fallen through, this was easily the best substitute he could have imagined.

Before they sat down she took a call from Lucy and assured her that she was safe and settled while being assured of the same for her son. Then she followed Barba's advice and set up her charger, in case they would later lose power. He had already charged all of his devices and gathered candles and flashlights, and informed her that he had enough storm supplies to get them through several days if needed.

"Are you always this prepared?" she had teased.

"Only when I'm expecting my mom to visit and want to demonstrate to her that she raised a responsible human being."

"Want to avoid her wrath for proving the opposite, you mean."

He smiled. "You're not wrong."

And then came dinner - a true Christmas dinner with turkey, stuffing, potatoes, vegetables, freshly baked rolls, and a pie cooling on the counter for dessert. Barba had done well, and it was very different to hear Benson's praise then his mother's; probably equal in gratitude and encouragement, but Lucia would have done the motherly thing and provided tips for next time, would have insisted on discussing the origins of recipes and the history of past occasions those recipes had been used in their family. And he would have rolled his eyes at the stories he'd heard many times before.

But yet with Olivia, he found himself being the one offering those same stories, and delighting in HER delight at hearing about his family, about him in earlier days, happy memories. And his openness prompted her own: memories of past dinners, past Christmases, some good, some easier to bear in hindsight.

"Why haven't we done this before?" Barba found himself asking suddenly, his tongue loosened by the turkey and the scotch.

"Getting snowbound on Christmas eve?" she smiled. "I guess I hadn't realised it was on your fantasy list."

"Really, though: Has it occurred to you that we don't really know each other? Even after all these years?"

Liv started to clear the table, motioning that he should stay seated for the time being and let her. "I don't know, Barba. I'd say you know me pretty well. Probably better than most." She opened the dishwasher and started to rinse and load. "But you're right. We don't share a lot about where we came from, and when we do it's usually in bits and pieces."

"And often reluctant bits and pieces," he observed.

"I suppose," she conceded. "I guess I didn't think you were that interested in backstory if it wasn't going to help you win a case."

"Well, I AM interested, for future reference." His voice was serious, but he was smiling.

"I'll take that under advisement. For future reference." She smiled back, and the moment passed. "Okay, so what do you want to do with the rest of this turkey?"

Together they cleaned the kitchen and packed away the leftovers, their conversation now veering more toward the personal, by design, than before. Barba talked about his mother. Liv talked about Noah and, in response to Barba's curiosity, about Tucker, though mostly in the context of how Noah was adjusting to him being so recently out of the picture. And work talk centred more on their FEELINGS about work rather than just the facts.

When there was nothing let to do, Liv found herself at the window, peering out but seeing very little. "You should probably fill the tub," she advised. "I know the water will still work with the power goes out, but if the pipes freeze..."

"Good idea," he conceded. "I may take a quick shower while we still have hot water, if that's okay with you."

"Of course; you don't need to entertain me."

"Forgive me if I WANT to." They exchanged a smile. "Make yourself at home; I won't be long." But it was only a moment later that he was back in the room. "Want me to throw this stuff in the wash?" He was holding the clothes she'd discarded and hung on the shower rod to dry - her pants had been soaked from the mid-thigh below her coat to mid-calf above her boots, and snow had blown in the collar of her coat onto her shirt as well. "Or just toss it in the dryer?"

"Dryer is fine; with my luck it wouldn't make it through a wash cycle before the power finally did go out, and then I'd be wearing your pajamas home in the morning."

"I'd like to be a fly on the wall when you explained that to Lucy," he said with a sly grin. With her help he gathered her outerwear as well and sorted what could safely be dried, then finally shut himself into the bathroom and left her to her own devices.

After a quick goodnight call to Noah, who was getting ready for bed, Liv tried to banish her feeling of sadness and disappointment. Instead, she turned her focus to the unique opportunity she was faced with.

Barba had given her permission earlier to snoop in his bathroom, so she chose to operate under the assumption that snooping through the rest of his home would be permitted as well. It wouldn't hold up in court, but she wasn't going to let that stop her from taking advantage of unsupervised access to his personal space. Not that there was much to see, and she wasn't about to go rifling through his drawers, but as she moved from room to room and took it all in she found that she enjoyed the feeling of being a welcomed intruder, as he seemed the type not to allow such intrusion willingly.

She wasn't surprised that the place was immaculate and didn't for a moment attribute that to his mother's planned visit; he would be one to appreciate order in his private world as well as his professional one. Every room seemed expensively decorated, a little too highbrow for her taste, but utilitarian in its own way, she supposed, for someone who didn't have a small child running around.

She found herself wondering what it meant to him, to live in such conditions. As far as she knew he entertained here very little, so it seemed unlikely it was meant simply to impress. Perhaps it was a symbol for him of what he'd worked so hard to achieve - an escape from the projects, a rising above of what most of his contemporaries from his old neighbourhood remained mired in. Maybe. And maybe someday she would ask him. But not today.

Today she was going to go relax on his couch and admire the Christmas tree, which was his only decoration and which she had no doubt COULD be attributed to his mother. It was beautiful, and real, and ridiculously classy with its perfectly placed white lights and silver bobbles. Her own tree was artificial and filled with sentimental ornaments, many made by her son.

It wasn't long after that he stepped into the living room attacking his wet hair with a towel, now barefoot himself and having replaced his jeans with sweatpants that hung rather low on his hips. "Tub is filled," he reported, before he stopped and his face grew thoughtful.

"What?" she inquired, curious.

"This just feels very... domestic."

"Ya think?" She grinned at him, obviously at ease. "Does that bother you?"

"Nope, not a bit," he told her. "I was just wondering if we can claim holiday pay for a forced pajama party, since it's kind of work related."

"I don't know about that, but I could probably submit an invoice if you want to pretend you're a B and B."

"NYPD couldn't afford my rates," he said with a smirk. "I guess this one will have to be pro bono."

"Very generous of you, Counselor."

"Well, 'tis the season, Lieutenant."

"Speaking of which," she reached for the remote. "What's your viewing pleasure? We can't wait out a snowstorm on Christmas Eve without watching a Christmas movie. We aren't savages." Turning on the TV, she selected the Netflix app and waited for it to load.

Tossing his towel over the back of a kitchen chair, he joined her on the couch. "That's fine, but I hope you appreciate me giving you this window into my soul. And I trust you won't use it against me in the future."

She raised an eyebrow. "Your movie choice?"

"No, my Netflix queue." He looked genuinely embarrassed. "I like to have the TV on as background noise while I work at night. So despite what it may look like I have never REALLY watched a full episode of Downton Abbey."

And then, Olivia Benson giggled. Properly, girlishly giggled. And Barba considered that a fair trade for his embarrassment.

"Now I know what I'll be looking through after you go to bed," she teased.

"Sorry, Liv - no TV in the bedroom."

She understood his implication, but was having none of it. "Barba, I'm not going to make you give up your bed for me. The couch is fine."

"The couch IS fine, which is why I'm not going to have trouble sleeping on it. God knows I've fallen asleep here often enough." He saw her about to protest and raised a hand to stop her. "The bed was already made up for my mom to use tonight. It's all yours. No arguments."

"But -"

"But nothing. Just say 'thank you' and then don't laugh at me when I suggest we watch "Elf"."

She did say 'thank you', and managed not to laugh though she wasn't able to completely hide her amused smile. ""Elf" it is."

Olivia realised as they watched that she'd never felt him be that PRESENT with her for such a long period of time. She hadn't seen his phone in his hand since she arrived, which was practically unheard of outside of the courtroom. He wasn't distracted, wasn't acting as though his mind was running ahead to where he had to be and what he had to accomplish next. He was THERE with her, and it felt like a gift.

Miraculously, while there had been a few blips throughout the evening it wasn't until nearly the end of the movie that the power started to flicker in earnest. So when the end credits started to roll Barba retrieved the flashlights and put them on the coffee table in front of them while Olivia switched over to TV and found a segment on local weather conditions. Barba busied himself elsewhere, and it wasn't until the lights finally went off for good that Liv questioned what he'd been up to.

"In here," she heard from behind her, and turned to see that he'd set the table with multiple candles as well as two battery powered lanterns that he'd hung from the light fixture above. "Can I interest you in a game to pass the time before we slowly freeze to death? I'm afraid I don't have a lot of selection, but my mom and I often play when she comes to visit so I have collected a few."

Liv was surprised, not just by what he was suggesting but the fact that he seemed intent on keeping them active where she'd imagined his preference was to just sit back with a scotch and power down. "Mostly games that put you at an advantage, I see," she commented as she approached, seeing Scrabble and Boggle in the small pile.

"Not against my mother, I'm afraid. Where do you think I get it from?"

He was smiling fondly, and Liv was reminded that he was trying to banish disappointment of his own. She made it her mission to help them BOTH forget for a little while what they were missing.

"Well, I'm not as gifted with words as you," she said, putting the word games aside, "but I've won my share of Rummy-O in my time."

He cleared the rest of the games away and helped her begin setting it up. "I'd say we're pretty evenly matched. I seem to recall you winning at least a few arguments over the years." There was that fond smile again, and this time over her, which made her smile in return. "So, you still stuffed from dinner, or shall I bring on the snacks?"

It was nearly 11 when they finally gave up, their eyes tiring from playing in the low light, the drop in air temperature moving more prominently into focus.

"You can have the bathroom first, Liv. I'll clean up."

When she had completed her nighttime routine the best she could with what she carried in her purse and what he had available, she followed the sound of his humming to the bedroom.

He'd moved the lanterns so that one shone from each of his bedside tables, leaving extra batteries in easy reach. He'd added a warm looking quilt over the comforter and had even folded back the covers.

"Turn down service," she jested. "I'm impressed."

"Sorry there's no mint on your pillow," he joked back. "Need anything else before I leave you alone?"

"Are you sure I can't convince you to let me take the couch?"

"Asked and answered, Lieutenant," he told her firmly but with affection. "Good night."

Olivia fell asleep fairly quickly, but was awakened several hours later by a notification from a new app on her phone that she hadn't gotten around to muting. A pro at dropping back off after sleep interruptions, especially since Noah came along, normally it wouldn't have been an issue. But tonight it was cold, jarringly and distractingly cold. And the street sounds she was used to - traffic and sirens and voices even late into the night - had been replaced by a howling wind that just wouldn't fade into the background.

She wasn't sure how long she'd just been laying there when she heard a shuffling in the hallway.

"Liv... You awake?"

"Uh-huh."

Barba switched on his flashlight as he stepped into the doorway, wrapped up in and dragging at least two quilts, the hood from a sweater he'd put on as the temperature dropped covering his head and ears. "I'm freezing," he declared unnecessarily; she couldn't see him shivering in the low light, but she thought she could hear it in his voice. "I suppose it would be really inappropriate for me to suggest we consolidate our blanket supply."

"Probably," she conceded even as she moved over in invitation. "I won't tell if you won't." He mumbled something in Spanish she didn't quite catch and unwrapped himself quickly, threw the blankets over the bed, and climbed in beside her.

"You should have come in earlier," Olivia chided, though sympathetic.

"I had to work up my nerve," he said through chattering teeth. He switched off the flashlight and set it on the bedside table, glad that even with it on she wouldn't have seen the colour he felt rise to his cheeks at his uncensored admission.

"Funny, I imagined I would seem LESS intimidating in my jammies," she teased, rolling on her side to face him.

"MY jammies, technically," he pointed out.

Liv found the sound of Barba using the word "jammies" to be quite funny, and chuckled aloud. "Yes, that's probably the issue."

As he expected, it wasn't the extra blankets but the shared body heat that made an almost immediate difference, despite the fair amount of space he'd left between them. Enough to stop him from shivering, at least. He knew that closing the gap even a few more inches would probably improve conditions exponentially, but he had come as far as he felt he could without being presumptuous.

But then it became clear that Olivia had less misgivings about potential impropriety, her foot nudging against his ankle and her icy toes pushing up his pant leg to find skin.

"Jesus, Liv!" he hissed. "Why aren't you wearing socks?"

"I hate sleeping in socks," she explained, then added sheepishly. "Plus, by the time it got really cold, I wasn't about to get out from under the covers to go put some on."

"I'll go get you -" he started to offer.

"No, this is good. This is better." Her other foot was now seeking heat against him. "If that's okay," she added as an afterthought.

He sighed as though it was a sacrifice. "If you're going to use me for my body heat, you might as well do it properly." He wasn't sure where that bravery had come from, but it was all the invitation she needed. The next thing he knew her body was half draped over his, her cold nose warming against his cheek.

"I hope you're not looking for pillow-talk, Barba," Olivia said through a yawn. His incredulous huff in response made her suspect he'd gotten even less sleep than she had so far that night.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," he mumbled, "because this may be one of the only times I'm happy to keep my mouth shut."

They shared a chuckle, and as a delicious warmth overtook them, sleep did as well.

Olivia woke up to the smell of coffee, and after taking a moment to rejoice that obviously power had been restored, she rolled over to reach for her phone and check the time. Assuming that he was already up, she was surprised to find that Barba was still in the bed beside her, laying on his stomach, his face turned from her. He'd removed his sweat shirt and pushed some of the blankets away, so apparently he'd been awake at some point since the heat had come back on. The thought that he'd chosen to stay rather than escape back to the couch pleased her for a reason her tired brain wasn't going to devote resources to. Right now it had to solve the mystery of the coffee smell, though the sound of humming that now accompanied it did most of the work for her.

Careful not to disturb him, she quietly left the room, stopping first at the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth before heading to the kitchen to properly investigate.

"Good morning, Lieutenant Benson," Barba's mother offered brightly; it was obvious that she'd been prepared by her son for Olivia's presence. She handed the younger woman a mug of coffee and gestured toward where she'd put out the cream and sugar. "I see you both weathered the storm."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Barba. I'm glad you made it. Have the roads cleared up?"

"Not exactly, but there are a few taxi drivers taking their lives into their own hands for the holiday and hazard tips. Rafael still in bed?"

"Yes, but I'm sure he'll be up soon. We didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

Lucia's eyes widened in delight. "Is that so?"

Liv couldn't help but laugh, and was glad she was too old and too sure of herself to be embarrassed by her poorly chosen words. "Nothing so scandalous, I promise you. Your son eventually abandoned the couch and was kind enough to share his body heat so we could actually get some rest."

"How gentlemanly," Lucia teased.

"You raised me well," Barba interjected as he entered, looking rough - hair askew, pant legs uneven, stubble darkening his face. Hearing their voices, he'd stumbled past the bathroom in their direction instead to make sure Olivia didn't need rescuing. Having overheard their most recent comments, he felt confident she could stand up to his mother on her own. "Merry Christmas, Mami."

Lucia was of course unphased by his appearance, and drew him into an embrace while speaking to him lovingly in lyrical Spanish. Olivia, on the other hand, was enjoying seeing Barba in his "natural state". Or, more accurately, enjoying that he was letting her.

"Coffee, Barba?" she offered when Lucia released him.

"Mmm, in a minute. I need to go pull myself together. I'll be quick."

By the time he returned, still in his pajamas and still unshaven but showered, smelling of mint toothpaste and looking considerably more alert, Olivia had made some determinations about Lucia Barba. Namely, that she was force to be reckoned with, but that she also had a heart of gold. So while Olivia suspected that she probably tended to seem intimidating to those that didn't know her well, her determination to help those around her and see the best in others made her a force of GOOD.

The women had worked together on a simple breakfast, and Barba was wearing an amused expression as they waited on him in tandem and he listened to them chatter away, his mother giving Olivia the third degree to learn more about her.

(Later, Liv would tease that she now knew he hadn't been kidding about where he got it from.)

When Lucia addressed her son, it was often in a mix of English and Spanish, and after it occurred to her that he was answering her only in English, Lucia had a thought.

"Sorry, Olivia," - Olivia now, instead of Lieutenant, Barba noticed - "You do speak Spanish, yes? I didn't mean to be rude."

"Well, according to your son, I don't. What did you call my accent, Barba? Was it "irksome"?"

"Rafael!" his mother scolded.

"Really, Liv? Getting me in trouble with my mother on Christmas morning? After I took you in during a snowstorm?" He smirked as he took a bite of his toast. "Uncalled for."

"In his defence, it really is pretty horrible. However, I can understand Spanish much better than your son thinks I speak it, so please feel free."

"I'm sure you speak it just fine." But Lucia continued on in English anyway.

Barba was awake enough now to engage, and drew from his mother a second telling - she'd already brought Olivia up to speed - of her night and her plans for the day.

"We're not supposed to get any more snow; it's all just the wind blowing things around now that will cause trouble. Anyway, I told the cab driver there would be an extra $50 in it for him if he was back here at 10 a.m. to return me to the Mission, so we'll see if that was enough incentive."

"You're feeling generous," Barba commented with a knowing grin.

"No, YOU'RE feeling generous, Rafa," Lucia said with a matching expression. "You can make it part of my Christmas present. Speaking of which, I put YOUR gift under the tree for you. Are you ready to open it?"

Olivia excused herself to call Lucy and Noah, to retrieve her clothes from the dryer, to shower, and to figure out her plan for the day, though it also served the secondary purpose of giving them time alone. Barba, knowing full well her dual motivation, had tried to convince her to stay, convince her she was welcome. But she knew he was sincere and wasn't feeling at all sorry for herself, instead just happy at the thought of him getting his Christmas morning with his mother after all.

It was just after 9:30 when Barba called to her from outside his bedroom. "You decent?"

"Decent enough," she called back, and he entered, closing the door behind him when he saw that 'decent enough' meant just that - she was rooting through his dresser in the rather revealing tank top she'd worn the day before under her dress shirt. "Hope you don't mind. I was looking for some thicker socks. My boots are waterproof and they have good tread but I learned yesterday that they aren't very warm."

"No worries. You're welcome to borrow anything you like."

"Ooh, in that case... " She returned to a drawer she'd opened earlier during her search. "I choose this, if it will fit."

He smiled when he saw her selection: the dark grey "Wicked" sweat shirt his mother had given him on his birthday the year they had seen the show on Broadway together. One of his favourites, for sentimental reasons and because of how soft and stretched and comfortable it had become over time. "It should. It's a little big on me."

"What are you saying?" she teased as she slipped it on.

He paused. "Would it be better to lie and say I WAS referring to your weight? Or just tell the truth and say that I was thinking about your breasts?"

His delivery had been deadpan, but at her surprised, full laugh, a smile lit up his face.

If his casual speech hadn't been an indication of how comfortable he was feeling with her that morning, the fact that pulled off the shirt he had slept in before he went searching for something to replace it certainly was.

"You're in good shape," Olivia found herself voicing aloud.

"You sound surprised," Barba noted, amused. "Were you expecting wiry or doughy?"

"I never really gave it much thought," she answered honestly. "Those suits of yours - "

"-Can hide a multitude of sins. Yes, I know."

"And apparently they can also hide the opposite." Then she felt bad when he seemed to speed up the selection and pull a shirt on rather quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you self conscious."

"No, quite the contrary. I'm not above enjoying having my ego stroked by a beautiful woman." He grabbed a pair of jeans and boxers. "That said, I'm sure you're not here for the show, so I'll finish getting ready in the bathroom."

He didn't close the adjoining door so they could continue to speak. "I figured we can share my mom's cab as far as the hospital and then I can help you get your car dug out. And before you start in on "It's sweet of you to offer, BUT -", I need to remind you that even if I wouldn't have insisted on my own, my mother isn't going to let me away with doing anything less."

And so Olivia had no choice but to resign herself to the plan, and soon found herself bundled in the back of the cab moving at a snail's pace through the blowing snow, along with the determined New Yorkers who weren't going to let said snow get in the way of their Christmas morning plans, danger be damned, and the crews of people operating the snow plows and machinery that made their trek possible.

Taking their leave of Lucia, they were happy to find that the hospital lot where she'd left the SUV was more or less passable, but it still took about 20 minutes to clear the vehicle and make a path through the bank created by the plow. Thankfully, that gave the engine plenty of chance to warm up and by the time Olivia and Barba were sliding into their seats and shedding their soaked hats and scarves, there was steady heat blowing from the vents.

The time spent clearing had also been time spent negotiating, as Barba convinced her that it would be much easier for him to come along rather than just being dropped back at his home. While Olivia resisted, she knew his arguments were sound: The likelihood of finding street parking close to either Lucy's grandmother's or her own place was slim during the clean up, and she didn't want to drag her asthmatic son around through these cold and windy conditions. It made much more sense for him to drive them for the first leg and double park or circle until she came down with Noah. Then he could drop them both at Olivia's and take the SUV back to the NYPD motor pool parking lot, which was underground and so would be clear, and then call an Uber from there.

Olivia couldn't help but feel a little relief when it was settled and it was Barba climbing into the driver seat; despite her NYPD driver training, she'd never been particularly confident in the snow, and she was always hyper-aware when travelling with her son, making it tough to relax in the best of conditions.

If Barba was nervous, he didn't show it beyond sitting up a little straighter and gripping the wheel firmly at 10 and 2. They tuned into an all-news station, which despite the holiday was broadcasting, fuelled with storm fodder.

Lucy had Noah all ready to go, and once they arrived it only took Olivia about 5 minutes to retrieve him. The knowledge that Santa's gifts were sitting under his tree waiting for him was enough to get the normally slow-as-molasses boy moving faster than she'd ever seen him before.

"Hi, Mr. Barba," Noah greeted brightly as he climbed inside the vehicle to wait for Liv to install the car seat and get him strapped in.

"Hola, amigo," Barba answered with a smile. "Did you have fun with Lucy?"

It took very little prompting for Noah to fill the rest of the ride home with excited chatter.

Barba had grown more comfortable with Noah the older and more verbal he became. There wasn't a particularly special connection between them, but Barba had gone out of his way to be kind and attentive to the boy whenever they were together, recognising that it made Liv happy for him to be a part of her son's greater support structure through what he was able to offer. And having Olivia happy with him about that gave him a greater margin to work with when he inevitably pissed her off for other reasons.

The fact that he also just liked it when Olivia was happy was, he told himself at least, beside the point.

Barba had been right about the parking situation on Benson's street, but had to double park anyway to help them navigate a snow drift that had formed in front of her building's door. The sound and then honk of a plow with an impatient driver cut short their goodbyes.

Much later, when Barba was back at home and after eating leftovers for supper with his mother was deep into a game of Scrabble, he heard the sound of his phone from where he'd left it on the coffee table. A text. Two. Four. Then another.

"You can check it, Raf; I don't mind," Lucia told him when she saw he was distracted. "I don't want you blaming your curiosity for my inevitable victory. I'll make us some coffee. Take your time."

The texts were all pictures, all from Olivia. Pictures of Noah and his gifts, Noah playing out in the snow, a selfie of she and Noah together in front of the tree.

This was different; she'd never thought to send him anything like that before.

Rather than hitting reply, he called her instead. "Looks like Christmas was a rousing success for my favourite Bensons," he said by way of greeting.

"I would say. He even fell asleep early after all the excitement."

"I'm glad to hear it," he told her sincerely. "I'm sure he's exhausted. I'm guessing my mom won't last that much longer herself."

"I heard that, Raf! Wishful thinking!" Lucia called from the kitchen, causing Olivia to laugh. Barba explained that she had a rather commanding lead in the game they were playing.

"I'm happy she made it back safely," Olivia said. "I didn't mean to interrupt; I just thought you might like to see the pictures." She paused. "I'm not sure why, exactly, now that I think about it."

"Well, for whatever reason, you were right. So I'm glad you did."

They shared a smile through the phone.

Later, despite his assurances, Olivia was still feeling rather sheepish about it. But that sheepishness was instantly dispelled when Barba texted her a picture of his own, a selfie of he and his mother in front of the game they'd completed, Lucia playfully sullen and Barba looking victorious.

"It's a Christmas miracle," Olivia texted back.

"Truer words..." was his reply. "My mom just went to bed."

"Me, too," she told him, even as she switched off her light and settled under the covers. "Sorry you're stuck on the couch again. But I suppose that's a great excuse to watch a few episodes of Downton."

There was a long pause before his next message arrived. "I got caught up last week... So how about we never speak of this again?"

"If you think that's going to happen, maybe you really DON'T know me very well. :D"

"Unfortunately, I think we've remedied that problem fairly effectively, don't you?"

It was her turn to pause. "Yes, I think you're right. And I'm glad."

"Me too." And then a second message, before she could reply: "Keep warm tonight, Lieutenant."

Olivia smiled in the dark. "Merry Christmas, Barba."


	2. Fight

**SETTING:** After 18x9 ("Decline and Fall")  
 **A/N:** This chapter was accidentally deleted during a chapter shuffle, but thankfully xphile101 had it backed up and was able to share with me! Thank you so much, xphile101!

* * *

Rafael Barba was having a good day. He'd spent most of it in court, in his element, doing what he loved. And doing it pretty damn well. Well enough that when just after 5:30 the judge had called for a recess until the next day, opposing counsel Rita Calhoun had asked him to share some takeout in his office, a working dinner that had ended with plea deal being hammered out.

He was more than ready with his closing just in case things fell through; this case had been on and off his desk for over a year through counsel changes and continuances. Either way, after tomorrow he was confident he'd be able to clear it from his workload and his mind, and that a very bad man would be going to jail for a very long time.

So Barba decided he was going to give himself the night off. He would go home and put his feet up with a good scotch and a good book. Just what the doctor ordered, considering the other cases he had on the go.

He was smiling and even whistling as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned on the ringer that had been silenced before court had resumed early that afternoon. But when he noticed there were 16 missed calls, he knew he wouldn't be able to fully relax until he'd cleared them. So he put in his Uber request, then headed to the elevator as he started listening from the beginning.

He wasn't whistling or smiling when he got in the back of the car and arranged a change of destination; he wouldn't be going home any time soon. He had only made it through a few of the messages when a live call from the Mayor interrupted him, and he spent the next 20 minutes in traffic wishing he'd forgotten and just kept his phone off. Or thrown it off a bridge.

He'd felt more than heard the telltale buzz indicating that another call was coming in, but he'd ignored it. Another message to prolong his ruined evening, one that would just have to wait its turn.

He was able to sign off with the Mayor just after 8 p.m. when he said he was headed into a meeting with the head of the SVU and would report back soon. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he paused only long enough make an attempt to rein in his anger - for Noah's sake and no one else's - before he knocked on Olivia's door.

"Barba!" she greeted brightly. "That was quick."

He didn't know what she was referring to, and he was so livid he didn't stop to ask. "Noah asleep?" he inquired brusquely, brushing past her.

"Yes. He just dozed off."

"Heavy sleeper?"

"Uh, yeah. He'll sleep through pretty much anything." She sat at the table where she was half way through a salad. "Why?"

"Because there will probably be yelling." Already his jaw was set and it was taking every ounce of self-control to keep from starting his barrage right then and there.

Liv was confused. "Didn't you get my message? Isn't that why you're here?"

"I'm here because I just spent 20 minutes on the phone with the Mayor, trying to convince him that your squad hadn't gone rogue and jeopardised MONTHS invested by multiple departments. But at least I didn't have to pull all that convincing COMPLETELY out of my ass, since I'd just listened to half a dozen voicemails from the Commissioner, other units, and 1PP about what you'd been up to!"

"Oh." Busted. "If you were just talking to Mayor, he probably hasn't heard the news yet."

"What news?"

"We got him," she told him with a smile. "On video, on audio, in front of impartial witnesses. In the unlikely event he doesn't try to take a plea, there's no way a jury's not going to throw the book at him. And with what we got, he's taking his whole crew down with him. It's done."

Barba's expression didn't change during the long pause that followed. "Walk me through it," he said finally, hanging his coat over the back of a kitchen chair and sitting down heavily.

She did. And while she stressed the outcome, she couldn't avoid answering his terse questions along the way about the process used to get there. Unfortunately for her, the former didn't seem to be making a dent in his anger over the latter.

"Are you - Are you out of your mind?! That wasn't a calculated risk! It was a Hail Mary and it just as easily could have gone the other way! Months of work down the drain, and he would have walked!"

"I know."

"You put all of our jobs at risk! Of all of the - "

"I KNOW, Barba. I get it." Olivia didn't bother to defend herself, or even act defensive. And that only seemed to make him angrier.

"I don't think you do! Olivia, you NEED to loop me in on these things!"

"You were in court all day, and we had a window. I made a judgement call."

"And I used to think you had good judgement... You can't pull a stunt like that without talking to me, even if you have to pull me out of court to do it!"

"You would have said 'no'!"

"You're damn right I would have said 'no'!" And then he was off again, pacing, raving about risk, about irresponsibility, about politics and expectations and anything else he could think of.

And Olivia just sat there and took her lumps, waiting for him to tire himself out. The fact that she did so while eating her salad, which made her appear even more unconcerned than she was, didn't help the situation. But she had only just arrived home and was hungry after a long day. And despite feeling bad that it had caused him grief, she was happy over their good fortune. She was also utterly unafraid that her judgement call (or perceived lack of judgement) would mess up their friendship or working relationship, since both had survived much worse.

"Well? Don't you have anything to say?" he finally asked her, slightly out of breath.

"Maybe you should call the Mayor back and everyone else and let them all know the good news?" Liv mugged an exaggerated hopeful smile. "And I'll ignore MY missed calls until you've got it all smoothed out?"

He closed his eyes and sighed through gritted teeth. "You infuriate me."

"I know." But now her smile was big and genuine and he was already starting to forgive her. "If you'd like, we can split the calls up and each take half."

"No, you've done enough. Let me deal with it." He shrugged on his coat and opened his Uber app to request a ride. "As long as you're willing to let everyone else take the credit, I'm sure I can convince them to stand down on your...questionable methods."

"I don't care about credit. We got him, and that's all that matters."

"All that matters to YOU, maybe," he huffed as he walked toward the door and she followed.

"And all that matters to YOU, too." She reached out to adjust the collar of his coat. "Once you've gotten all the politics out of the way, you're going to be just as happy as I am."

She was right, of course. But he wasn't about to admit it, and deflected instead when he finally noticed what she was wearing - the hooded sweatshirt she'd borrowed on Christmas Day.

"I'm not going to get that sweater back, am I?"

"Nope," she told him, deliberately popping the "p". "That a problem?"

"Nope."

That smile again. For a moment it almost made him forget how angry he was. And when he could tell she'd picked up on that lapse by the way her smile transformed into a smirk, he just shook his head. "I hate you."

"No you don't. See you in the morning, Counselor."

He grumbled all the way to the elevator as he dialled the Mayor.


	3. Suspension

**Setting:** Takes place after "Know It All" (18x15). Contains spoilers from that episode.

Barba was suspended on a Thursday, and spent Thursday night and Friday clearing his desk and passing things that couldn't wait for his return over to other ADAs. One of those ADAs was particularly sympathetic to Barba's situation and had offered him the use of his timeshare in the Hamptons. So Friday just after 5 he and his mother, whom he'd convinced to take a vacation day on Monday, were headed out of the city for a long weekend.

His choice to invite his mother was borne out of his knowledge that if he went alone he would only mope and drink too much. He also owed her some focused time and a proper explanation of what was going on.

The fact that she played a good "supportive mother" when she wasn't playing "nagging mother" or "controlling mother" may have been an expected and welcome byproduct of the invitation. By the time she left him on Monday afternoon to drive herself home, he was feeling much better and more prepared to take on the next few days alone to eat at expensive restaurants, read several books, and just generally decompress.

He hadn't seen Olivia since the night that his punishment had been handed down, when she'd joined him in his office briefly with the intention to commiserate but in the end to celebrate. A two week suspension was a slap on the wrist in the grand scheme, and considering both had feared that their working relationship was over, the mood was practically festive as her relief and happiness was infectious.

The suspension over the alternative was a relief to him, too, of course. It was the rest that angered him. He'd spent an awkward hour with Ashtonja and her grandmother, apologising profusely for the questioning and harassment the girl had endured, not apologising again for the death he had brought about those years ago because he knew they had heard it all before and didn't want those feelings brought up again anymore than they already had been by this situation, than they were each month when his money arrived in their account.

He also hated that his private business was being broadcast not quite as publicly as might have been the case, but certainly publicly enough, as his suspension was not going to be kept a secret and the rumours circulating about the reason were either too close to the truth or so far from it that either way his judgement and his character could be called into question going forward, while not in the court of law certainly in the court of semi-public opinion.

And there was also the matter of Benson herself, of how confused and disappointed she had been when he'd had to withhold the truth, when she had accused him of not trusting her.

He could still remember the look on her face when he'd said it wasn't personal and she'd replied "It is now!" He knew what she'd meant. Their Christmas Eve adventure and all that had happened in the three months since had repaired any damage left over to their dynamic that had been caused by his reaction to her dating Tucker and hiding it during his investigation. They now enjoyed an even stronger professional commitment to one another, a stronger and more effective working relationship, what they'd come to view as a partnership.

But her declaration hadn't been about that. It had been about the fact that whether something was related to work or not related to work, everything was effectively personal between them now. They'd fallen into that realisation less than two weeks before when she'd accepted his invitation for a drink apparently only so she could continue the argument that they'd been having on and off the whole day.

"I am absolutely prepared to have this out with you," Barba had eventually told her. "But this is a work fight, not a personal fight. Can we put a pin in it and just enjoy our evening?"

To his surprise this had actually led to Olivia apologising, and to a frank discussion about boundaries and how the nature of their jobs and schedules made it really hard to delineate between "work friends" and "life friends". They called attention to the habit they'd been developing of simply slipping in and out of each other's days without much acknowledgement of meetings and partings, and with no thought to what hat was being worn at any given time.

It was easy and comfortable but it effectively made everything personal. Which was fine when they were at their best, because their care and respect for each other as people and friends worked to their advantage in their professional dealings. But they were human, and so they weren't always at their best.

In any case, when he'd finally revealed the whole sordid tale, Olivia seemed to have understood and forgiven him for any offence against her. But it still made him angry that the situation had ever called his trust in her into question.

By the time he returned to Manhattan a week later, he was feeling much better overall. While effectively doing nothing for any significant period of time required a great deal of discipline for him, he could recognise that giving his mind and body an occasional rest made him better prepared for the work ahead of him.

Which was good, because considering the nature of the 'work' that Olivia put on his plate on his first day back in the city, he needed to be prepared.

"Hey. Where are you?" There was no ceremony in Olivia's greeting, as usual. While they hadn't seen each other in a week, they'd stayed connected throughout by text and the occasional phone call.

"Just dropping by my office for a few things."

"'Suspended' means you DON'T work, you get that, right?"

"Actually, in the strictest sense according to the DA, 'suspended' just means I don't get paid for any work I do," he told her. "But I'm not really working. I just had to sign some documents and run through something with Carmen. And I'm just walking out of the building now."

"How about you keep walking and head over to my office?"

"Sure," he quickly agreed. "Have you eaten? I could pick us up some lunch."

"Actually, I want you to pick up Noah from preschool."

Barba checked his watch. "It's barely 1. Is he sick?"

"No, it's nothing like that. There's a water issue at the building they are in and so they are asking parents to come early. But I just can't get away and Lucy isn't available until 3:30 on Fridays."

"Not a problem; I'm happy to do it." The words were automatic, but Barba gave himself a moment to take stock after he'd said them, and realised they were mostly true. "I'll be to you in a few minutes."

Walking through the squad room he couldn't avoid the attention of the team members gathered there.

"How is suspension treating you, Counselor?" Carisi asked him. "Bored yet?"

Barba just gave Carisi a more or less tolerant smile.

"I wouldn't mind a 2 week vacation, paid or not," Fin chimed in.

"You on vacation right now, Fin?" Liv shot from her doorway. "Because I thought you were supposed to be half way across town."

"Guilty as charged. On my way," he assured her even as she was ushering Barba into her office.

"So what do you think is going on there?" Amanda asked.

Carisi was confused. "The Lieutenant and Barba, you mean?"

"Yeah. They've been awfully chummy lately."

Sonny shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really get that vibe off of them."

"Me, neither," Fin added. Normally he wasn't one to get in on the office gossip, but in this case he had some context to add. "Kind of reminds me of how she was with her old partner, Stabler. They were together for 12 years, and they were tight."

"How tight?" Amanda asked meaningfully.

"Nothing like that. He was married with five kids, and as far as I know they never crossed any lines."

"But when you work that closely with someone for so long, you get so like you're married, just without the sex," Carisi offered.

"That's what I'm sayin'," Fin agreed. "Anyway, whatever they've got going on, I think it's good for her, and it's working for us, so I'll take it."

"Fin!" Liv chided as she reentered the squad room. "How are you still here? Get going!"

"Yes, ma'am." And he walked with Barba, who had received his instructions and Liv's spare set of keys, to the elevator. "You okay, Counselor?"

"What? Oh, yeah, fine."

"You sure? You're looking a little distracted. Everything alright?"

"Yeah. I'm just..." There was no reason NOT to tell him. "Liv needs me to pick Noah up from preschool. And kids aren't exactly my area."

Fin almost laughed at the idea of cold-as-ice, tough-as-nails ADA Barba being thrown off his game by someone barely out of diapers. But he could remember his early days as a father and so managed some sympathy. "Noah's one of the good ones. Liv's done a great job with him. You'll be fine."

"From your lips to God's ears." Barba didn't sound convinced.

The detective gripped his shoulder. "Noah is the most important person in her life, so the Lieutenant wouldn't have asked you if she didn't trust you. That should say something right there. Good luck, Counselor."

Fin had meant well, but his parting words had actually made things worse. By the time his Uber pulled up in front of Noah's school, Barba had resigned to consoling himself with the fact that if he could just keep Noah alive for the next two hours, that would hopefully be enough to prove Olivia's trust in him was warranted.

"Hi. I'm Rafael Barba; I'm here to pick up Noah Benson. His mother should have called." He was ready with his ID as Liv had instructed.

One of the administrators manning the door checked her list, and seeing his name gave him a smile and directed him to the corner of the gym where Noah's group was sitting in a circle with two teachers playing a game while they waited.

Barba approached without his usual confidence, wondering how Noah would react to seeing him and whether he would go with him willingly or ask for his mother or Lucy. Would he cry? Have a tantrum? Would he -?

"Mr. Barba!" Noah noticed him and his face lit up in a big grin. Apparently Barba hadn't needed to be all that worried.

"Hi, Noah," he greeted with a smile. "Your mom asked me to come and get you until Lucy's done at HER school. That okay with you?"

He nodded, but looked thoughtful as one of the teachers helped him zip up his coat and slip into his hat and mittens. "Can we go to the park?"

"Um... I guess so. Do you know where it is?"

"Uh-huh."

The park would fill some time. And it was a PARK, designed for kids, so probably survivable. It seemed like a good option. "Okay, then. I guess you can lead the way."

Suddenly Barba found himself with a little wool-covered hand tucked into his. Barba gave a bit of a panicked glance at the teacher, who just smiled encouragingly as she wished Noah a fun afternoon.

The park wasn't a complete disaster. There were a few other kids there from Noah's preschool with their parents or babysitters. Apparently it was a popular spot. The other adults seemed content to talk amongst themselves and leave the kids to their own devices, but Barba was too afraid of Noah hurting himself or running off to begrudge the boy's insistence that he participate in all activities. He pushed him on the swings, provided counterweight for the teeter totter, stood close as he lined up for the slide again and again. A text from Liv reminded him that he'd failed to check in, so he snapped a picture of Noah at the top of the slide and sent it to her just in time for things to fall apart.

Noah lost his footing before he could sit and position himself properly, and it surprised him enough that when he made it to the bottom he fell forward, catching himself with his outstretched hands.

No harm done. Not even a scrape since he was so bundled against the cold air. In fact, it was only Barba's immediate show of concern that made it occur to Noah to react at all, and his lower lip started to tremble.

Barba scooped him up to get him out of the way and deposited him on a nearby bench, quizzing the boy on his potential injuries, of which of course there were none. A runny nose and silent tears had Barba searching through Noah's backpack for tissues, which he thankfully located, cleaning him up the best he could.

"Want to go home, buddy?"

With a hiccough Noah wrapped his arms around the kneeling Barba's neck, obviously expecting to be carried. Barba was happy to oblige, relieved that Noah was neither injured nor did he apparently consider the man an unsuitable substitute for Liv or Lucy in his desire to be comforted.

By the time they made it to the Benson apartment, Noah seemed to have forgotten the incident altogether. He "helped" Barba unlock both sets of doors, and then shedding his outerwear and dropping his book bag took off towards his room.

After picking up the discarded items, Barba removed his own expensive peacoat, cashmere scarf and leather shoes, leaving him in dark designer jeans and a blue button down. Rolling up his sleeves, he made himself take a breath and tried to focus on the necessities of getting him through the next - he checked his watch - 68 minutes.

Bathroom. That seemed like a good place to start. "Hey, Noah," he began when the boy returned towing a little plastic wagon containing toy cars and action figures. "Do you need to use the toilet?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, as though he was about to burst and had only been saved by Barba's reminder.

Barba stood outside the partially closed bathroom door. "Do you need any help?"

"Nope!"

That was no small relief. A flushing sound, and then Noah reappeared. "Did you wash your hands?"

"Oops," was Noah's sheepish reply as he went to do as Barba instructed.

"Okay, so far I'm nailing this," he encouraged himself silently. And now only 64 minutes to go.

Noah emerged with dripping hands and a smile, looking at him expectantly.

"Um, alright. So... what do you and Lucy do when you first come home from school?" Barba asked.

"She looks in my backpack," Noah supplied helpfully.

"Alright, we can do that." He led the boy to the kitchen and lifted him up on the counter so they could look through the bag together, removing what remained of his snack (which Noah decided to eat right then) and a notice about an upcoming open house which Barba affixed to the refrigerator with an open magnet. 61 minutes.

"Now we play!" Noah announced, and reached for him so he could be returned to the floor. Then he grabbed Barba's hand again and led him to the living room where he dumped out his wagon and began separating his toys.

Barba sat down on the couch intending to simply observe, but Noah, who had figured out that it was apparently his job to train his inexperienced babysitter, patted the place beside him. "No, you sit here."

Chuckling as he slid down to where the boy had indicated, he listened as Noah set the scene and handed him the correct toys that would allow him to appropriately participate. And while it took him awhile, with Noah so engaged and engaging he was eventually able to settle in.

He was surprised that when he finally thought to check his watch again, and only because Noah had remembered there were several unwatched episodes of a kids show that taught Spanish waiting on the PVR and had asked if they could watch them together, that over 30 minutes had passed.

Barba had no idea if Liv had any rules about screen time. It was surprising enough that he knew parents DID often have rules about screen time. "I guess we could," he said. "But probably just one. Lucy will be here soon."

"Can't you stay?"

Barba was about to give his default answer when he realised he really had no reason NOT to stay. He was suspended, he had no plans, and that feeling of something he couldn't quite name that came from knowing that Noah wanted him there was certainly not unwelcome. "Why don't we call Lucy to see what she has to stay about that."

He found the young woman's number near the top of the emergency contact list on the fridge, though he discovered it was one Noah knew from heart when he'd taken Barba's phone from his hand and asked to be the one to dial and say hello. Lucy hadn't left school yet and seemed grateful for the chance to spend some time in the library, so she quickly gave in to Barba's request. She'd met him before, knew he was a lawyer and a friend of her boss. So while she was well aware that Liv was very protective and very choosy about who she allowed to care for her son, Lucy figured if she'd trusted Barba to pick up Noah from school and watch him this long, she wouldn't have a problem with him staying a little longer.

Still, she found herself assuring Barba that if he needed help or needed to be relieved she was only a phone call away. She also informed him that Liv had asked her to have dinner on the table for all three of them at 6, and Barba promised her that he could make that happen. He grilled her about food allergies and anything Noah or Liv definitely wouldn't eat. He also requested her advice about the quality and quantity of snacks Noah was allowed to have to tide him over.

Sensing that he was a little out of his element and could use some encouragement, Lucy found herself commending Barba for asking all the right questions. He should have been annoyed, but found instead that he was grateful. And he had no shame over calling her back several minutes later to make sure Noah was allowed to watch TV in the afternoon and to get instructions on finding the right show on the PVR.

Once the screen came to life, Noah continued to play with his toys but in a less focused way, and didn't object to Barba sitting on the couch. But after a few minutes the boy joined him, tucking himself into his side. Barba froze.

But Noah, who Barba had become convinced was very intuitive for his age, seemed to take pity on him, pulling his arm from where it was extended along the back of the couch and positioning it around the boy's small body.

After a few moments, Barba let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. And he felt no compulsion to check his watch.

He DID suddenly find himself reflective. Barba's own father hadn't been the most affectionate even when times were good, and it occurred to him that he'd never really given a lot of thought to how that had shaped him. He wondered if it would have been better for him if, like Noah's, his father had been out of the picture altogether, wondering if he would have been less affected by a father's absence than he would be by the presence of someone in his life who was no real father to speak of.

Noah certainly didn't seem to be lacking anything by being a part of single parent family. But of course Liv wasn't in it alone. She had Lucy, who was devoted and who Noah obviously thought the world of. There had been Tucker, whom while he didn't know for sure he imagined had at least filled a limited role. Noah had seemed very comfortable with the members of the squad whenever he'd seen them together, which indicated that they'd taken an extended and hands-on interest.

And as Noah laughed aloud at what was happening on the screen and looked up at him to make sure he'd gotten the joke, Barba realised that maybe he had a part of play too.

Three back-to-back episodes, a snack, another trip to the toilet, a messy art project that resulted in him removing his now glue- and glitter-crusted button down and replacing it with the "Wicked" hoodie - HIS "Wicked" hoodie - that he'd found clean and folded on top of the dryer ready to be put away, and it was time to start thinking about dinner.

He suggested that Noah play in the living room, but the boy was apparently convinced that Barba would require his help with meal preparation, pulling the step stool to the sink to wash his hands without being asked. To his credit, Barba was able to create ways for Noah to be involved: shredding the lettuce, choosing the types and amounts of vegetables that would be included in the salad, using the spinner to clean and dry the pieces that Barba cut, and mixing everything together. He let the boy help butter thick slices of bread and sprinkle on the garlic before they went into the oven to bake. He also taught him to use the rotary cheese grater on the cheddar for the pasta and sauce that were heating on the stove.

Noah was doing a passable job at setting the table with surprisingly little instruction when Olivia came through the door.

"Something smells good" she exclaimed as Noah ran to her.

"Me and Barba made dinner!" he told her proudly as she lifted him into her arms.

That was when she noticed it wasn't Lucy in the kitchen. She was surprised, but she still had the wherewithal to correct him. "That's MR. Barba to you, sir," she reminded gently.

"That's okay, Liv," Barba interjected as he brought a pitcher of water to the table. "We're buddies now, aren't we, Noah? I think we can skip the "Barba" altogether and be on a first name basis, don't you?"

Liv was delighted to see Barba making such an effort with her son. "Well, in that case, little man, why don't you help Uncle Rafael finish things up here while I get changed?"

Wiggling to get down, he happily resumed his table-setting duties while the grownups talked in the kitchen.

"So this was unexpected," Liv remarked. "Where's Lucy?"

"I gave her the afternoon off," he told her, removing the garlic bread from the oven. Then it suddenly occurred to him that he probably should have asked her permission, and he turned to face her with an uncertain expression. "I hope that was okay."

"Of course," she immediately soothed. "I'm sure she was grateful. She has a big project due at midnight that she wasn't quite finished; it's actually why I made sure to get home early tonight." She peered over his shoulder. "This all looks terrific."

"Everything's ready. You go change and I'll serve it up for us."

"Alright; I'll be quick." Then she noticed something particularly interesting. "You've got glitter on your jeans, Counselor. It's a good look for you."

"I got glitter on everything, hence the wardrobe change. But don't worry, I'm not taking the sweater back. It looks better on you anyway."

She squeezed his arm and headed toward her bedroom.

The meal was a festive affair. After filling in his mother on what seemed to be every second of their time together EXCEPT, blessedly, for Barba's overreaction at the playground, Noah finally quieted enough to eat more dinner than Barba would have guessed could fit in such a small person. He even ate the salad, which Liv had never been able to convince him to do before. When questioned about it, he simply indicated that he wanted to eat it because he had made it. Liv vowed to remember that the next time she needed him to try something healthy, and to thank Barba for happening upon that strategy if it did in fact work again.

"So what do you have planned for the weekend, Barba?"

"Rafael," Noah corrected her through a mouthful of pasta.

"Manners please," his mother reminded him, trying to hide a grin.

"Nothing too exciting," Barba told her. "I'm headed to my mother's first thing in the morning to help her with something at the school and a few things around the apartment. She was rather explicit that my vacation has been long enough."

"So what your saying is that your mother is giving you a "honey-do" list."

He chuckled. "Pretty much. But I figure I owe her. I haven't exactly had a lot of time in the last several years to help out the way a son probably should."

"You hearing this, Noah? Rafael says that good sons do chores for their mommies."

For his part, Noah just shrugged and kept eating.

But despite her announcement, Liv let Noah out of any chore duty as Barba worked with her instead on clearing the table and dealing with the dishes. And it was over the sink washing the pots and pans that Liv finally let on that when he'd gone to her office to pick up the keys she had clocked his nervousness about watching Noah. "So was it as terrifying as you thought it would be? Being in charge of another human being?"

"No," he said confidently, though when she scoffed he went on to admit, "it was even MORE terrifying than I thought."

"You decided to stay, so it couldn't have been all that bad." She gave the counter a final swipe with a wet dishrag before hanging it over the faucet. "So why DID you decide to stay?"

"Well..." He took a moment to consider. "I guess because Noah asked me to."

His honest and earnest answer brought a genuine smile to her face, which he couldn't help but return.

Noah joined them in the kitchen and tugged Barba's pant leg. "Time to play?"

"Sorry, kiddo." It was his mother that said it, though Barba suspected it was actually to give him an easy out. "I think we need to move bath night to tonight to see if we can get some of that glitter out of your hair." She addressed Barba. "We might be awhile but you ARE welcome to stay. We can grab a drink once Noah's asleep."

"That's alright; I'll leave you guys to it." He crouched down to address Noah. "But maybe I can come over and play another day? Would that be alright?"

He took Noah's arms wound tightly around his neck as a 'yes'.

It was Tuesday that the opportunity came. A text from Olivia caused him to look up from his book: "Have you eaten?"

Barba glanced at the clock in surprise, not having realised how late it had gotten. He was in full vacation (okay, suspension) mode now and had sprawled on the couch in the middle of the day to enjoy a good murder mystery which had apparently been more engrossing that he expected. "No, not yet," he texted back.

A moment later his phone rang, and seeing her number on the call display, he answered with a simple, "Hey."

But it wasn't her voice that responded. "Hi! Can you come over for dinner?"

"Well, hello, Noah! Thanks so much for asking; I would love to!" There was a rustling as Noah reported his agreement to his mother and passed her the phone.

"Don't get your hopes up, Barba," Olivia told him, and he could hear Noah not quite whispering helpfully, " _Rafael_ , mama!" before she shushed him. "We aren't all men of leisure like you with time to make a home cooked meal. But Chinese takeout will be arriving in about a half an hour, and Noah was pretty insistent that you join us."

He took her teasing in stride, all the while trying not to reveal in his voice just how touched he felt over Noah's invitation.

He arrived at their door prepared with a hostess gift of sorts. He handed her back the freshly laundered sweat shirt he'd worn home on Friday with a bit of a ceremonious flourish. "Where's Noah?" he asked as he stepped inside.

"Just in the washroom. He's been asking to invite you over all weekend, and I finally couldn't hold him off anymore. Sorry to interrupt your 'vacation'."

"I'm very happy to be interrupted," he assured her.

"I'm glad to hear it. Fair warning though, Rafael; you will probably be getting quite a few invitations moving forward. You are officially Noah's new obsession."

Barba found he was strangely okay with that.

He noted that the shirt he'd left there before the weekend was hanging by the door. "No more glitter," he noted with thanks. "Oh, before I forget." He held out her spare keys. "I should probably give these back."

She reached out to take them but her hand stilled for a moment when it touched his. "Actually, why don't you keep them? In case of emergencies."

"You mean in case you want to use me again for my babysitting skills," he smirked.

"Yeah, maybe that too."

Regardless of her motive, he was happy to return the keys to his pocket before he hung up his coat.

Then Noah was practically climbing him like a tree, much to his mother's chagrin and Barba's delight. The food had arrived just before him so Barba carried the boy to the table and deposited him into his chair.

Noah had apparently decided that he needed to know every little thing about his new best friend, and so the meal was spent with Barba feeling like he was on the witness stand. And loving it.

All through dinner and continuing into the living room where Barba, in jeans and a comfortable tee-shirt, laid on his stomach on the floor to help her son build a Lego set, she felt like a spectator. She could barely get a word in edgewise and it seemed at times they had forgotten she was even there. It couldn't have made her happier to be ignored under these circumstances, so she just watched and listened between answering emails and browsing her news feed.

"Uncle Rafa," Noah began not long after Liv had given a 15 minute warning. Barba's preferred nickname had come to light during the dinnertime interrogation and had stuck. "Can you put me to bed?"

Olivia was expecting Barba to look to her for guidance or rescue as he had the few times in the past when her son had made an overture of connection. But tonight he didn't even spare her a glance, saying instead directly to Noah, "I'm not sure I know how to do that. Help me out?"

Noah was only too happy to explain his bedtime routine, and gave a little cheer when Barba agreed.

It was only then that it occurred to Barba to check in with Olivia and make sure she was okay with it. He guessed by the way she was pretending to ignore him and smiling into her coffee cup that she was.

Not wanting to undermine his growing confidence, Olivia didn't even leave the couch while Barba helped her son clean up the toys, get a final drink of juice, get into his pajamas, and brush his teeth. It was only when Noah came to give her a kiss goodnight that she offered some advice. "He's going to ask for the cat book, Barba, but no matter what he says let me assure you it's very long and very terrible. Just tell him you're allergic to cats and pick something else."

She was right about the request, and Noah was so passionate about the offending cat book that Barba almost gave in. But then it occurred to him to convince Noah that they should read Spanish books when they were together. Crisis averted.

"So why don't you just get rid of the cat book if it's so terrible?" Barba asked as he lowered himself heavily onto the couch beside her after Noah had finally nodded off in the middle of story #3.

"I would if I could, trust me, Rafa," she told him, the nickname understandably slipping out after hearing it regularly for the last two hours. "Sorry; that was kind of weird."

"Not to worry, Lieutenant. Just try to refrain from calling me "uncle" while you're on the stand." They shared a smile.

"So, you look like you could use a drink," Liv suggested. "Scotch?"

"Actually, I need to get going. A friend of mine out of a legal clinic in the Bronx caught wind of my suspension and asked if I could consult on a case he's working on. He's bringing over some files in about an hour for me to go through with him."

"As long as he's not trying to poach you, I guess I'll allow it, Counselor."

"You're not going to get rid of me THAT easily."

After a few more minutes of conversation and catching up, Barba had to get ready to leave. He had just finished tying his sneakers and had reclaimed his freshly cleaned blue button down when Noah approached, rubbing his eyes and holding something Barba recognised. "What are you doing out of bed?" Barba asked him kindly.

"I forgot," the boy told him simply, thrusting the craft they had made together on Friday afternoon into Barba's hands before heading back to his room.

At the look on Barba's face, Olivia couldn't help but tease him yet again. "You are so sunk. That kid has you wrapped around his little finger."

"I'm well aware, Lieutenant," he admitted, sheepish. "He is his mother's son." And not leaving her any time to unpack that statement, he gave a little wave and let himself out.

When Barba got home he searched for magnets with enough strength to affix Noah's masterpiece to his fridge. And he was proud to show it off when his friend arrived to work and couldn't help but question why his clothes were covered in glitter.


	4. Always

**SETTING:** Takes place immediately after 19x1 ("Gone Fishin'")

* * *

Cassidy hadn't stayed long, had really only been there as a courtesy, to give a heads-up. Olivia might have felt somewhat vindicated by how genuinely apologetic he was, how awkward and nervous to have been put in this position, to see _her_ in this position. She might have felt that way, if she had the luxury to allow herself to feel anything at all.

But it was still an hour before Noah would go to bed, and he wanted her to snuggle him while he watched a cartoon. It wasn't the time to feel all the things she was pushing down. It wouldn't be fair to her son to shut herself into her room and fall apart when he was asking for her, wanted her affection and attention.

But as she sat and held him, stroked his hair and revelled in his laughter and childish commentary at what was happening on the screen, she couldn't stop one feeling from creeping in, and that was _dread_. She dreaded what would happen when Noah was asleep and she was left to herself. She almost felt threatened by it. It was too much.

And so she found herself reaching for her phone.

"Hey Liv," was Barba's quick answer. "What's up?"

"Where are you?"

"Still at the office." He paused, having heard something in her voice. "Where do you need me to be?"

That question alone was almost enough to open the floodgates, rendering Olivia temporarily mute as she fought to keep control.

"Liv?"

"Can you come over?" she finally blurted.

There was no hesitation. "I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can."

When Barba arrived, Liv had tears in her eyes as she answered the door, and he immediately stepped into her personal space to embrace her but was stilled by a firm hand on his chest.

He was too worried to be hurt. She was too close to the edge to reassure him.

Noah's appearance behind her and his bright greeting of the unexpected visitor was timely. "Isn't it past your bedtime?" Barba engaged the boy, trying to deflect his attention from Olivia. "Did you already brush your teeth?" When Noah answered in the affirmative, Barba said, "Okay, then why don't you go pick out some books and I'll come read to you?" He smiled as Noah's excitement had him running to his room.

"Thank you," Olivia said quietly, sighing in frustration and looking upward when a tear slipped out and ran down her cheek.

"Take a minute," he advised calmly, as though giving her direction on the stand. "Then come say a quick goodnight and let me put him to bed."

She nodded, swiping at her eyes and taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I'll be right there."

It took her more than a minute to rein herself in. Barba was halfway through the second book when she entered Noah's room.

"Give your mom a kiss, kiddo," Barba prompted him, though little prompting was needed. While still sitting on Barba's lap, Noah reached for his mother and wrapped his arms around her neck, giving her a sloppy kiss and telling her that he loved her.

This brought Olivia's face very close to Barba's, and when she met his eyes and he again saw her sadness he made the mistake of pressing his lips to her forehead. Her composure was immediately lost and Barba had to redirect Noah's attention once again while she made a hasty retreat.

It wasn't long after that Barba joined her in the living room, removing his jacket, vest and tie, laying them across the back of a chair, kicking off his shoes, moving slowly as though to prevent startling her. But watching her, eyes always on her.

She was fighting again, on the couch with her knees drawn up and her arms around them, making herself as small as possible, holding the position tightly as though to help contain what was coming. Breathing heavily. Staring straight ahead even as he crossed her line of sight and sat down beside her, turning to face her, waiting.

"Liv..."

No response. Still fighting.

In the end his hand coming to rest lightly on her arm was all it took.

A few hours later Barba was putting HER to bed, after she'd cried herself out, after she'd allowed herself to drink in his reassurances that the investigation would clear her easily and that Noah would never be taken from her. After he had reminded her that she had people in her life who loved her and loved Noah and would fight relentlessly on their behalf. After the wine and the cold pizza and the emergency call from Fin and the work-talk that followed and soothed her with distraction.

After she had thanked him for being there, and he had promised her that he would always be there, for whatever she needed. Always.


	5. Embrace

**SETTING:** Sometime before 19x9 ("Gone Baby Gone").

When the jury handed down the verdict, the courtroom erupted. Yelling. Sobbing. Everyone on their feet. The bailiffs on their radios calling for reinforcements as the judge demanded the gallery be cleared.

The chaos in the room mirrored the chaos Barba felt internally, and instinctively he turned where he stood to seek out Olivia. Their eyes met only for a moment before she was lost in the crowd being herded out the door.

They'd had dinner the night before at her invitation, a pre-verdict celebration after a brilliant closing, as she'd described it. She wasn't even involved directly in the case, though certainly she had some skin in the game as the conviction of a "big fish" such as this would trickle down and open the door to catching some of the smaller fish on her own radar.

She hadn't spent any time in court until the closing arguments, but he'd kept her updated over takeout lunches in his or her office and the occasional drink after work. It had been a very long trial and an incredibly long lead-up, and while he'd had other cases to worry about, this one had occupied much of his time and thoughts for several months. So when they had literally bumped into each other in the busy courthouse, Olivia having just sat in for a sentencing hearing and Barba on his way to deliver his closing, their brief conversation had revealed he was full of energy that - uncharacteristically for him - bordered on nervous.

What surprised her more than the nervousness was that he wore it on his sleeve, asking her if she'd mind being there. In another situation she might have teased him a bit, but instead she just wrapped her fingers around his elbow and told him to lead the way.

The gallery was full, and Olivia had been forced to squeeze in the middle of the 6th row with some of the cops that HAD been involved in the case and who recognised her as one of their own. Before Barba had sat down he'd looked for her to see where she'd landed, and at her encouraging smile the corners of his own mouth turned up slightly.

She hadn't been exaggerating about the quality of his closing arguments. By the time he got started all of his nervous energy - which wouldn't have been picked up on by anyone who didn't know him well - was completely under his control and he easily hit his stride.

Olivia loved watching him like this, so confident and strong, every word and phrase and inflection carefully and perfectly crafted. But not like an actor in a play, because what he said he meant, and that's where his words really gained their power: Whether or not you believed that what he said was true, there was no doubting that HE believed it was true.

When it was over he was immediately surrounded, and she'd chosen to slip out rather than join the line waiting to congratulate him. She'd texted instead. "A thing of beauty, Counselor. Buy you dinner?" She was already back in her office by the time he'd had a chance to check his phone and accept the invitation.

It was just after 6 when they'd met at their usual spot. He wasn't nervous anymore, but the confident half-smirk that was practically his resting expression was transformed to a more humble and sincere "aww, shucks" grin when Olivia had slipped out of the booth where she'd been waiting and wrapped him in a tight embrace, so quick and unexpected that he hadn't even had time to return it before it was over.

It was then that his closing had been labelled "brilliant" and she'd given in to sentiment just long enough to express that seeing him in his element like that had made her feel so proud to know him. His cheeks turned pink, not embarrassment but a flush of happiness at being on the receiving end of her affirmation and affection.

Now, nearly 24 hours later, his cheeks were not pink but red, the heat drawing the colour down his neck as he fought to control his own reaction to the unexpected verdict not in their favour. Upon adjournment he was swarmed outside the courtroom, eventually drawn aside by his boss, the chief of police, and the mayor's press secretary who were talking at him and over each other about how things were to be handled when he left the courthouse and was swarmed again, this time by the reporters.

Barba couldn't see Olivia during this time, but she could see him from where she stood leaning against the hallway wall. She'd hoped she would at least be able to make her presence known as a show of support, but Barba's focus was being pulled in every direction, it seemed, but hers. So she just waited and watched for awhile, and noticed.

Noticed the tension in his neck, and the stiffness of his posture. Noticed the muscles of his jaw working under his skin. Noticed the way his hand was gripping his briefcase. Noticed his barely controlled expression.

And when the crowd had thinned a bit and his eyes did finally flick in her direction before locking on hers, she could tell he needed an intervention.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to speak with Mr. Barba for a moment."

"Not a good time, Lieutenant," the mayor's press secretary barked.

"I'm aware, and this won't take long, but it _is_ urgent and time sensitive."

She looked to the chief of police for backup, and he nodded tersely. "You have five minutes, Lieutenant."

"That should be plenty."

Olivia led Barba to a consultation room just down the hall, one of the four tiny rooms right in a row that were available to lawyers and their clients to meet or wait before court. She slid the placard on the door from "Unoccupied" to "Occupied" so they wouldn't be disturbed, and closed them in.

At that point, Benson could have offered sympathy, offered a pep talk, offered commiseration, offered an ear to let him express what he was thinking and feeling. But there would be time for that later. In the now four and a half minutes they had, she sensed what he really needed was time to collect himself, so she didn't say a word as she leaned against the wall by the door and once again just watched him.

He had slammed his briefcase down on the small table and remained standing, facing away from her and toward the opposite wall, his hands gripping the back of the chair he was using to support himself. Still as a statue.

But she could see the moment when, having been given the space to simply breathe and reflect without interruption, his "next step" had been able to click into place. His head dropped as the tension left his neck, and it was like he could breathe again as his whole body seemed to relax just a bit.

It was like she could breathe again, too.

And then his briefcase was back in his hand and he'd turned towards her, indicating with a slight nod that he was ready to face the music. In the zone and all business, or so she thought. But before he walked through the door she'd opened, it was his turn to embrace her with his free arm, again tight and quick with no time for real reciprocation.

The look in his eye as he pulled away, before he reset his expression and strode from the room, was a clear reflection of her sentiment from the day before: He was labelling her intervention as "brilliant". And when her cheeks turned pink, it was with pleasure that she'd been able to help him in her own small way, and that it had meant enough to him that he'd paused in the middle of a huge mess to let her know.


	6. Helpless

**SETTING:** Takes place immediately after 19x9 ("Gone Baby Gone") in the show chronology and sometime after chapter 4 ("Embrace") of this story. Contains spoilers for 19x9.

 ** _NO_** _ **TE :** It would seem that now that I have gone back through the series to update for canon-compliance (changing the setting of chapters 5 to 14 of this story to AFTER "Gone Baby Gone" and moving them into chronological order), I have become "unstuck" and inspired to continue! Occasionally I will be shifting recently added chapters into chronological order for the sake of new readers and readers who want to read through again to get their Barson fix!_

"Alright, my love. It's time to start getting ready for bed."

"But mommy - "

"No buts, Noah. I already let you stay up an extra half hour."

"We have to go anyway, buddy," Amanda supplied helpfully. "Jessie needs to go to sleep, too."

Jessie was resting on Carisi's lap and was too tired to protest.

Noah dutifully hugged each of them, not noticing that they all seemed to squeeze him a little tighter and a little longer than usual, but when he got to Barba he asked, "Uncle Rafa, can you do my bedtime?"

"Sure, little man," he agreed with a smile. "Jammies and teeth, then, please. I'll be there in a few minutes."

There were no looks left to pass between the other adults present; they'd already been shared many times over since Barba had arrived at Liv's apartment. His jovial greeting, his casual dress and demeanor, his choice to sit on the floor and play at the coffee table, engaging Noah and Jessie in a way none of them could have expected. Amanda, Carisi, and Fin didn't quite know what to make of it.

Liv knew, could easily recognize and empathize with the nervous energy. After days of adrenalin and uncertainty, after a full day of court that had kept him away until now, Barba was relieved, was starting to decompress, and she could see he was overcompensating a bit with Noah to keep himself from revealing to the boy - who had no real concept of what had happened - how happy he was to see him here and safe. Still, she was surprised that Barba would act this way to such a degree in front of her squad, especially when he started to relax and behave more naturally, revealing bits and pieces of the man she'd come to know when they were alone together.

At work, it was always like flipping a switch. He'd be in her office or his office and they'd be laughing or fighting or bantering or eating and he would be HIMSELF. And then someone else would walk in and it was like that man was gone, hidden behind the armor of his three piece suit and, depending on the intruder, either his professionalism or his snark.

It might have happened anyway, but it was their nights around the Benson dinner table and following that had really cemented Barba's penchant for dropping his guard around her. He didn't make it as often as he would like due to work commitments, but he'd been given license to crash spaghetti night whenever he was available and interested.

That arrangement had come about a few weeks after he'd been roped into babysitting during his suspension. He'd arrived at the apartment at Noah's request only to find out that the invitation had been issued without his mother's knowledge. Over pasta that evening Noah had received a stern talking to about using the phone unsupervised when it wasn't an emergency, and about asking people over without clearing it with Liv or Lucy first. Noah had requested then that Barba be allowed to come over for spaghetti night whenever he wanted, and permission was granted with a smile. And it became a family joke that whenever there was an unexpected knock at the door, Liv would tease Noah about whether he'd invited someone over.

The times Barba had taken advantage of the open invitation -- only once or twice a month, and generally only when there was work to be discussed after Noah was in bed -- Olivia had been able to just sit back and watch while Noah did all the hard work deconstructing Barba's public persona, and even his best-foot-forward/best-behaviour more private persona. What she'd been allowed to learn as a voyeur in those proceedings was that the real Rafael Barba could be kind of goofy, kind of nerdy, not nearly as confident in some situations as he let on, sometimes even awkward, and intense over things that most adults would not lend intensity to (things like Lego and playing pretend). He apparently loved to wrestle, loved to make up ridiculous songs, and loved to tell corny and childish jokes that would send Noah into fits of giggling and gasping on the floor but that no self-respecting adult would even grant an eye-roll for. Who knew?

She knew. And she loved that she knew.

Her detectives, however, didn't really have a clue, despite what they'd seen that night as they'd all assembled to support her and to celebrate Noah's safe return. And as he joined her in the entryway to see them all out, as she watched him grasp Fin's hand, accept the clap on the shoulder from Carisi, give Amanda a warm smile and drop a kiss on her daughter's head, as she felt his warm hand come to rest briefly but comfortably on her lower back, she found she was profoundly glad and grateful that for her sake, for Noah's sake, Barba had allowed himself to be present, truly present, during this gathering, and give her team a glimpse of the man behind the mask, behind the armor, the man she'd come to consider a dear friend.

She was also glad that when the door closed behind the last of her squad - her FAMILY - she could feel free to be a little more of who SHE was behind HER mask and armor. And who she was that night was a hot mess.

"Can you put him in my room, please?" she asked, not meeting his eyes, embarrassed at her weakness.

But Barba understood. She needed Noah close so she could watch over him. "Of course."

Having witnessed him follow their bedtime routine a good half dozen times over the last year, Olivia was content to let them be as she tidied up and worked on the dishes.

Through the open door she could hear animated reading in Spanish and her little boy's laughter, could catch snippets of their conversation as Barba guided Noah in his usual debrief of the day as they wound down. And then Barba singing quietly, then humming, before silence fell.

That was her cue. "Hey," she greeted from the doorway.

Barba was propped up comfortably with pillows against the headboard and Noah was tucked in beside him, sprawled faced down. "Hey." He gave her his usual half smile and continued tracing invisible designs on the boy's back. "That's the fastest he's ever fallen asleep for me."

"He's had an eventful few days."

"That he has." Barba made no move to leave, and took a moment to properly craft his next words. "I'm good here for awhile longer if there's something you have to do, or want to do. I've got him."

She was about to protest when she saw the way Barba was looking at her sleeping son. Like he needed this too, to assure himself that Noah was here and safe.

"Hmmm... Well, honestly, I would love to just soak in the tub for a bit. I, uh, I haven't really had any me-time since everything happened"

He picked up her iPad, headphones attached, from her bedside table. "I'll fire up Netflix and put on some old Downton to give you some privacy. Then you can ugly-cry as loud as you like if you feel the urge."

She managed a scoff, but they both knew that was probably exactly what would end up happening if she was allowed the luxury of finally being alone with her thoughts.

"Thanks, Rafa."

"Don't mention it. Go on."

She allowed herself roughly the length of one Downton episode to give in to her grief, her relief. And while she knew it would take a lot of time and probably a lot of therapy to really move past all that had happened, all that she had allowed to happen by not trusting her initial instincts and allowing Sheila to be a part of their lives, all that COULD have happened if she and Rafa and her squad hadn't figured out was was going on, that hour was more cathartic than she had expected. So when she returned to her room in her pajamas, her damp hair tied back away from her face, eyes red from crying, and he asked her if she felt any better, she wasn't lying when she told him she was, if only just a little.

"You look dead on your feet," he told her as he returned her iPad to where he found it and sat up. "I still have my keys; I can lock up behind me. You come lay down."

She was so exhausted that she didn't even bother to attempt refusal. She clicked the switch on the wall as she passed and Barba turned on the reading light so she could navigate the darkness. As she slipped under the covers that he had pulled back for her, she found herself admitting, "Every time I start to fall asleep I get worried that he won't be here when I wake up. I know it's irrational, but -"

"I get it, Liv. You don't need to explain yourself to me." He drew out tucking her in, rearranging the covers around Noah, much longer than was necessary to do the job. Gathering courage. "Would it help if I stayed awhile longer? Help you sleep, I mean."

She was touched by the offer, but her automatic response was to refuse. "I can't ask you to do that. You have work in the morning."

"You're not asking," he pointed out. "I'm offering."

"But -"

"Just give me this, Liv. Please?" He exhaled heavily in frustration. "This whole ordeal...I've felt so helpless and useless."

"You weren't!" she insisted, propping her head up on her pillow so she could face him properly. "You were there. You were WITH me. And it was you that got us what we needed to find him in the end."

"That's kind of you, but let's face it - I was generally useless and awkward and said some really stupid things."

"Rafa -"

But he waved her off. He wasn't looking for reassurance. "I needed to do something. I NEED to do something. Let me do this." It came out more raw and pleading than he had intended, but he could see the acquiescence it brought to her face. "Thank you," he said with a smile, feeling a little sheepish about his emotional outburst but glad it had garnered the desired results. He turned off the light and settled back again.

It felt strange to have him there without talking, but Olivia was so tired that she fell asleep while trying to figure out where to start the conversation. When she was later awakened by a quickly fading dream, her eyes flying open and fighting to adjust to the darkness, she saw the clock and realized that several hours had passed, the longest unbroken period of rest she'd had since this had all began.

It did nothing to assuage her momentary panic before she realized that Noah was still there, breathing deeply, peaceful and safe. She sighed with relief and rolled closer to him so she could pull him against her. But her questing hand found something more solid than she expected. Namely Barba's torso, which her son had effectively wrapped himself around.

"Mmm..." Barba mumbled and opened his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry," she apologized. She could see his outline now, still on top of the covers but laying down properly on his back. Noah's hand was clutching the man's soft sweater, his head resting on Barba's bicep.

"Sleep, Liv. I've got him." His fingers found her in the dark and curled lightly around her wrist. _I've got you both._ He might as well have said it aloud.

Tears came unbidden to her eyes for a very different reason then before, but her exhaustion overrode the sudden emotion, and she was soothed further by the brush of his thumb, gentle against her skin. Then he was humming, and as she strained to listen, to follow the melody, sleep overtook her again.

When morning arrived Barba was gone. She was surprised to find that she and Noah had managed to not only sleep, but to OVERsleep. And as she had taken another personal day and wasn't ready to send Noah back to school, they had nowhere to go and no reason to leave the warm cocoon of the bed.

Their long, quiet cuddle time was interrupted by a sudden revelation. "Mommy?"

"Yes, sweet boy?"

"We missed spaghetti night."

"You're right." She had to fight not to become emotional again, remembering her breakdown in her office with Barba discussing this very thing. "We did."

"Can tonight be spaghetti night this week?" He was sitting upright now, cross legged and facing her, all dimples and earnest grin. She was helpless to deny him.

"Of course, baby. That's a great idea."

"Yay!" And then he was crawling over her towards her phone that she'd set on the bedside table. "Siri! Call Barba!" he ordered excitedly after double tapping the screen and entering her code.

Of course. It was spaghetti night. Which meant in Noah's mind that Barba was already invited.

Olivia couldn't bring herself to scold him for making a call without asking her first. Nor did she bother to warn Noah that his Uncle Rafa might not be available, that he might have to work or that he might have other plans, that he might prefer to go to his own home after being stuck at theirs the night before

She didn't bother because she knew in her heart that Barba would be helpless to deny him, too.


	7. Gratitude

**SETTING:** Sometime after 19x9 ("Gone Baby Gone").

"Let's all take 15 to get ourselves together, and then we'll meet back here."

"Copy that, Lieutenant," Amanda said, and the others intoned the same sentiment as they trailed out. Barba was at the end of the line, but instead of following he closed the door behind Fin then turned back toward Olivia.

"Don't," was her immediately response.

"Liv," he began, but she cut him off.

"Please."

Barba saw her eyes fill with tears and took a step toward her, but paused when she held up a hand and then escaped behind her desk.

"You need to leave. Right now. I still have work to do and if you're going to be here, being you..."

He understood then. "Okay. I'll go. But Liv -"

"Please," she said again, this time with her gaze set downward and a waver in the voice.

"Okay." And he let her be.

After all these years of seeing and experiencing so many horrific things, it was a wonder that Benson wasn't completely numb or hardened, that she would still allow herself to feel so deeply. Barba considered it more of a miracle that she wasn't a complete mess all the time. So he was certainly willing to grant her these moments, giving her more grace than he gave himself.

But he did feel this, whether he let it show, whether he would ever let himself indulge it or surrender to it. Because he had known this girl, had spent time with her. Had seen her resilience and her determination, even so young, so vulnerable. He had seen her look her abuser in the eye in front of a full courtroom and bury him with her words.

So to have just received this news that this victim, this hero, had died so senselessly in a car accident, that she would never be given the chance to have a real childhood and reclaim her life after all that had been done to her, Barba was far from unaffected. Reaching out to Olivia had been as much for his benefit as it would have been for hers.

He understood why she had sent him away. It was 2 in the afternoon and her team had just caught a new case. This wasn't the time to fall apart. It was the time to push the emotion down, lock it away until they had the luxury to revel in the grief, to really do it justice.

"Carisi, a word?"

Sonny looked up from his desk where he'd been staring blankly at his computer monitor, which was off. "Yeah, Counselor?"

"I need to speak to Liv, but obviously this isn't the time. If you think of it, could you drop me a text when things are starting to wrap up here, so I can swing by before she leaves?" Barba was counting on the fact that Carisi always seemed to be looking for an excuse to kiss his ass and would be the least likely to forget the request.

"Yeah, sure Counselor. I'll make it happen."

Carisi was true to his word. The text arrived at around 8:30 p.m.: "We're starting to pack up for the day, but Lieu is in her office."

Barba tapped a brief and non-effusive thanks (so as to not encourage any continued chatter) then quickly packed up and locked up his office.

The bullpen was empty of familiar faces when Barba strode through it and knocked on her door. Her "come in" was all business.

"Counselor." She somehow managed to wield her greeting like a weapon, warning him away.

"Lieutenant." He didn't leave the doorway. "Nearly finished? I thought you could use a drink."

"Not today." She returned her focus to whatever she was pretending to work on, dismissing him.

Normally he would accept her "no" and walk away. He'd done it enough. But today was different. "Actually, *I* could use a drink. And I really don't want to drink alone, or I may not stop." His words were meant to be tactical and he didn't even connect them in the moment with how he was really feeling. But later, in retrospect, he realised they were true.

Benson seemed to notice, to see through the posturing. She'd looked up as though to call him on his crap, but she ended up thoughtful and silent.

"Well?" Barba pressed. "Want to get out of here?"

"I haven't cried yet," she suddenly blurted, then rolled her eyes at how ridiculous she must have sounded. But she continued her thought. "And I'm not sure how much longer I can keep that from happening, with you..."

"With me being here and being me?" he asked, quoting her words from that afternoon. But he wasn't teasing. "Then why don't we just stay here and get it over with?"

"Barba..." she said, a warning in her voice.

He shut the door and closed the blinds. "Come sit with me." He removed his jacket and sat in the middle of her couch, waiting. He could see the struggle clearly on her face, how much she wanted to give in to what she'd been fighting for hours, but with her sense of propriety and professionalism trying to win the day.

In the end it was HIS face that cinched it, the open concern and affection that had the tears falling before she even stood. By the time she'd walked around her desk she had resigned herself to what was to come, even grabbing a box of tissues and bringing it with her. She held it on her lap as she slumped down on the couch, leaning into his side and her feet joining his on the coffee table.

For the next hour they remained there, first talking about the girl, the little warrior, about how unfair it was that she wouldn't have at least the chance to overcome all she'd been through. It was Barba who turned things philosophical, musing about how maybe it was actually for the best. He was first ashamed that he had said it aloud, but found no judgement in her. This led to opening a door of thought he'd been determined not to walk through for the sake of his own mental health, but she drew it from him anyway: the question of whether the good of stopping bad people from doing more bad things was enough, whether it was emotionally and morally sustainable to just move on to catching the next bad person knowing the victims who survived so rarely thrived.

Throughout all this they stayed side by side. It was easier that way, allowed them to be freer that they otherwise might. They didn't embrace, not even when Olivia's steady tears turned into actual sobs more than once, not even when Barba had sheepishly reached for a tissue himself and dabbed at his eyes. They didn't embrace, but at times a comforting hand had found a forearm, a thigh, at times they had leaned their heads toward each other and rested that way, at times fingers had entwined and squeezed in a show of understanding, of solidarity.

It wasn't until they found themselves sharing an elevator alone that Barba had properly put his arms around her, but only briefly because it made her cry again. "This is why," she accused with a watery laugh. "You need to promise me that if you see me get emotional while we're working, you'll either ignore it or run away. None of this -"

"-Being me and being here?" He drew back with a chuckle, even as a warmth filled him, driving away a bit of the rawness he was feeling. At first he attributed it to flattery, ego, but as he closed the door on her cab and watched her drive away, he realised it was more than that. He was moved, genuinely and deeply so, that she not only trusted him with her sadness, but that his very presence drew out that vulnerability. He wasn't sure what he'd done to earn that trust, but as he began his own drive home he vowed to continue to prove he was worthy of it.

Barba didn't sit next to her at the funeral, didn't stand near her at the committal. He instead watched from afar as she was able to be a strong support for the family and a strong example for her team. He stayed through the whole reception just to watch her, even helping to stack chairs in the church basement as it ended. And when she finally made her way to his side and suggested they share an Uber back to the precinct, he still kept his distance.

It wasn't until they were in the back of the car that he held out a hand to her. An offer, an invitation. Immediately tears threatened and she squeezed his fingers before letting go. "Later," she said, her eyes pleading.

Relieved when he understood.

"Still work to be done," he agreed, turning his attention away from her and out the window, giving her the space she needed despite their proximity.

Olivia took several steadying breaths and felt her control return. When a few minutes later she glanced at her friend who was obviously doing his best to ignore her, she found herself getting emotional again. But this time that emotion wasn't prompted by grief, but by gratitude.

* * *

 **Note: From this point forward unless otherwise noted, these chapters are in chronological order taking place sometime after 19x9, which I see as a pivotal episode for these characters. As the season unfolds, I will likely add more firm timestamps.**


	8. Message

"Hey, sorry I'm late."

"No problem," Olivia told him, swivelling the bar stool so she was facing him. She grabbed his lapels and pulled him in for a quick but solid kiss.

To his credit, Barba simply raised an eyebrow. "Okay. That's new. Are we doing that now?"

"Just trying to send a message," she explained, glancing around. "I've had three guys attempt to pick me up since I got here, and I'm not sure how many of them thought they'd be paying if I agreed."

"I'm not surprised. You look smoking hot," he said matter-of-factly, with not a hint of exaggeration or flirtation. "How was the sting op?" He took a seat beside her and looked for the bartender.

"It was a bust. Hard to say if he made us or if something else went squirrelly, but he never showed."

"That sucks. Sorry, Liv."

"Not a big deal. We saw an opportunity to cut some corners and we took it, but even if he'd been where he was supposed to be, we may not have gotten him anyway. When it comes to the long game, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve."

"Where are you hiding them?" he jested, referring to her very tight shirt. She just rolled her eyes and he laughed aloud at his own joke. "So, are we eating here?"

She was on the witness list for the morning and they hadn't had much time to prepare. She'd obviously come right from her little undercover debacle, hence the outfit which she wouldn't have otherwise been caught dead in. She was hungry, but was afraid this was going to be a longer night than her energy would allow. "Maybe we should grab something to go, so we can get started?"

Finally catching the bartender's attention, they ordered some sandwiches, along with a scotch and wine respectively to enjoy while they waited.

"So those boots are quite something," Barba commented as he watched her stretch her legs and roll her ankles.

"They're torture devices is what they are. I'm worried my feet may never be the same."

"Want to stop by your place so you can change on the way to the courthouse?"

She checked her watch. "Noah will still be awake. If he sees you, we'll never get out of there."

"You're probably right." Barba was around the boy more especially since the whole Sheila debacle, but it had been awhile and Noah was prone to being excitable about his presence even when it hadn't. "I know I usually insist we do this with you in the stand, but I'll rescind that for one night only, in deference to your sore foot situation. My place?"

Olivia easily agreed, and Barba ordered an Uber.

As soon as they walked through his door, she put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself and peeled off the boots, sighing in relief as her bare feet settled on the tile floor.

"Why don't you go find some comfy socks and I'll get dinner dealt with," he suggested, waving her in the direction of his bedroom without ceremony. She hadn't been to his place often since their Christmas Eve sleepover, but apparently she still had no trouble making herself at home there, and he was fine with that.

When she returned, she was indeed in comfy socks. But she was also found some pajama pants and had shed her tight top for one of his tee-shirts.

She smiled sheepishly. "I had to get out of those jeans almost as much as I had to get out of those boots."

"But I loved those jeans," he said with a smirk.

"Good. You can have them."

"I appreciate the offer, but I can't imagine them ever doing for my ass what they do for yours." He motioned for her to sit. "I'd suggest more wine but we should probably both forego the good stuff in favour of clear heads. What's your pleasure?" She opted for water and he poured her some before joining her at the table. "What time do you need to be home?"

"Lucy is prepared to stay the night, so you have me as long as you need me."

They ate at the table while he walked her through the preliminaries. They made coffee and tidied the kitchen together side-by-side while they squabbled over one of the points he had planned to leave out. They faced each other from opposite ends of the couch as he began to go through his questions. By the time he was taking her through what he foresaw as problems that could arise in the cross, Olivia had sprawled out and Barba had pulled her sore feet into his lap, rubbing them absently while they worked.

It was after 11 when they finally gave up.

"You want to stay over?" he offered casually. "You know you're welcome. And I should point out you're already dressed for it."

"Thanks, but tomorrow is going to be a long day. I'd like to be there when Noah gets up." She pushed herself up from the couch, then groaned. "Oh, God. I'd forgotten about the boots."

"And the jeans," he reminded her helpfully, his eyes shining.

"Nope, I'm done with the jeans. The Uber driver will just have to enjoy this little ensemble."

"Not to worry; the boots will really class it up." They shared a chuckle. "I'll grab you a sweater."

While she donned the boots he put her discarded clothing in a canvas bag for her to carry home. He held out the sweater as she slipped her arms inside. It was a little big, and she rolled up the sleeves to a more comfortable length while he zipped it up for her.

"Good?" he asked.

"As good as it's going to get." She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she grimaced. "Thanks, Barba."

"Yeah, no problem." A ding from his phone. "That's your car. I'll see you in the morning. 9:15? My office?" At her nod, he walked her to the door and opened it. "Get some rest, Lieutenant." Then without warning and without thought, he pressed his lips to her cheek.

It was Olivia's turn to raise an amused eyebrow. "A kiss goodnight. That's new. Are we doing that now?" she echoed his earlier words.

"Just trying to send a message," he echoed back. He could hear her laughter as he closed the door behind her.


	9. Trust

Olivia considered Lucy a treasure. Her flexibility and dependability to handle an erratic schedule was something that Olivia paid a premium for, but it was worth it for all the things she brought into their lives that money could not buy, namely the young woman's genuine love for them both, and the sense of consistency her presence gave to Noah. Lucy was like family, and the fact that Olivia could trust her completely with her son was priceless.

On the day that Lucy had just brought Noah back from the park when she received a call from the hospital informing her that her mother had been in an accident, Olivia would have been happy to drop everything so that Lucy could get to her bedside. But Olivia wasn't answering her cell, wasn't in her office. So Lucy had no choice but to look through the list of emergency numbers on the fridge to try to find a solution herself.

The one she chose was a relatively new addition to that list, but she had no doubt that Liv would approve.

"Mr. Barba, it's Lucy. I'm sorry to bother you..."

"Lucy? What's wrong? Is Noah okay?"

"Yes, he's fine. But I can't reach Liv and... um, I need to go to the hospital; there's been an accident." Through her tears she briefly related what had happened. "I think Liv said she'd be in court today. Is she with you?"

"No, but she's in the building. Can you get to the courthouse?"

When she indicated that she could, he did some quick math to figure out where he'd be around the time she would arrive, and gave her instructions on how to find him and what to do if he was still tied up.

The gallery had cleared throughout the afternoon as the docket cleared, so there were only a few people left when Lucy arrived. She was carrying Noah's car seat, and the little boy had been made to promise to stay close to her side as they found the room where Barba indicated they should meet him.

Someone on their way out held the door so they could enter, and Lucy was relieved to see Barba at the front of the room. But before she could set down the car seat and take Noah's hand, he saw Barba too.

And took off running in his direction.

The case had just been announced by the bridge officer and so Lucy couldn't yell after him to stop. She quickly placed the car seat against the wall but had only made it a few steps when Noah was scooped up by a bailiff.

Noah wasn't a particularly nervous child. Shy in certain situations, but not one to simply fall apart at a moment's notice. When he was unexpectedly scared by something, however, all bets were off.

Thankfully, Barba was facing in the right direction and had seen the commotion. He watched Noah freeze as the little boy's mind raced and tried to settle on a reaction.

A few long strides and Barba was reaching over the railing to take Noah into his arms.

"Mr. Barba," the judge began.

"Just one moment, Your Honour. My apologies."

"Oh, my God. I'm so sorry." A horrified Lucy was there now, trying to extract Noah from Barba and the situation, but Noah was having none of it, keeping his arms and legs firmly locked around the man.

Barba glanced at Rita, the opposing counsel, who gave him an amused nod. He spoke to the boy quietly in Spanish, who with his face pressed against the man's neck nodded and gave unintelligible assent.

"I'll just be a few minutes, Lucy," Barba told the girl with an encouraging and sympathetic smile before he returned to his position. "Your Honour, if you wouldn't mind..."

It was obvious the judge was just happy for things to continue, as this was the last arraignment on his schedule for the day. "Ms. Calhoun?" he inquired.

"We're fine to continue, Your Honour." She and Barba had already negotiated a course of action.

"Alright then. Mr. Moran, you how do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Rita answered on his behalf.

"People on bail?"

"The people would agree to house arrest, providing Mr. Moran was required to wear an electronic monitoring device."

"Ms. Calhoun?"

"No objections."

"In that case, Mr. Moran, you will surrender your passport and remain under house arrest with electronic monitoring until such time as your case goes to trial." With that, court was adjourned.

Barba managed to pack up his briefcase one-handed as his left arm was still holding Noah. "Thanks, Rita," he said quietly as he passed her.

"Not a problem. Looks good on you, Counselor," she teased good-naturedly.

Barba didn't take the bait, or even really register what had been said, because he noticed that Olivia had arrived. "Your mami is here," he told Noah. "You go see her while I talk to Lucy." He set the boy down and watched him run to his mother before putting an arm around Lucy's shoulders and leading her in their direction.

"I'm so sorry," she said again, tears already falling.

"No harm done, really," he assured her with a comforting squeeze. "Don't give it another thought. Any word on your mom?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to take a cab to Langone now."

"Nonsense. We'll get you there."

"I just got your messages. I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Liv told the girl as she passed Noah back to Barba and pulled her into a hug.

"Liv, why don't you take Lucy to the hospital. I've still got your key; I can take Noah back to your place."

And so it was agreed.

By the time Olivia made it home, Noah had been fed, bathed, and put to bed hours before. Neither Liv nor Barba bothered to give a report, as they'd kept in touch by text about both Noah's activities and Lucy's mom's condition - critical, but stable.

"Drink?" Barba suggested.

"Please. I'm going to change."

When she returned to the living room, he handed her a glass of wine before joining her on the couch with the scotch he'd already been working on.

"Thanks for today," she told him genuinely.

"Don't mention it. You know I'm happy to help."

"Now that I know you can babysit AND be in court at the same time, I may call you more often," she teased.

"Yeah, I imagine I'll be the brunt of jokes over the next few days once that makes it around...which I'm sure Rita will see to."

"You're tough. You can take it."

They shared a smile.

"Seriously, though, if you need help while Lucy is out with her mom, let me know," he told her. "I'm not scheduled to be in court tomorrow afternoon, so if you get stuck I can pick up Noah."

"That's good to know. I'm hoping I'll be able to get away, but if I can't I may have to take you up on that."

"In that case, I'd better go home and get some sleep so I'll be ready." He drained his glass as he stood. "I love your kid, Liv, I really do. But I'd be lying if I said he didn't tire me out."

Her words, her tone, managed to conceal the wave of emotion that came over her hearing Barba so casually express his affection for her son. "It's because you're used to working hard, but not playing hard. It takes a different energy," she explained from experience. "You'll get the hang of it."

And she had no doubt that he would. She'd seen a change in their relationship since his suspension, since the day she'd first been forced to ask him for help with Noah. Before that, he'd been kind, but far from confident, always looking to her for guidance as though he was worried he would do something wrong.

She remembered that feeling. She'd had it when she'd first brought Noah home. The difference was that she hadn't had anyone to look to, and so had been forced to figure it out.

That first day he'd spent alone with Noah had been the same for Barba. Without her to fall back on, he'd managed to figure things out.

Now he was kind, confident, and seemed actually COMFORTABLE with Noah. Seeing him hold her son in the courtroom today like it was a perfectly natural event had been an incredible, beautiful thing for her to behold. And now hearing him say he loved Noah, it was almost too much.

Barba had no idea he'd sparked this reaction in her, so he was business as usual as he knelt to put on his shoes. "Okay, so there's a plate for you in the fridge; I wasn't sure if you'd eaten. Noah had a pretty big glass of juice before bed, so you may want to wake him up to use the bathroom at some point. Oh, and Lucy had texted to ask me to switch the laundry over. I put away what I could figure out but everything else is folded on your bed." He was on his feet now, shrugging into his suit jacket. "You really lucked out with her, didn't you? I mean, her mom's in the hospital and she still remembers the laundry."

"She's the best," Olivia confirmed. "And so are you, by the way."

"Yeah, you really lucked out all over the place," he said with a smirk. "See you tomorrow."

Normally, lately, a parting at any place not work-related was marked with a kiss on the cheek or sometimes even on the lips, perfectly chaste though not lacking in affection. But on this night when Barba leaned in to initiate, pressing his lips to hers, her hands went to his face and stayed there even after he pulled back.

"I mean it, you know. You really are the best."

Barba sensed it was important to her that he not simply brush off the sentiment as he often might. "I don't know about 'the best'," he said seriously, his own hands coming to her waist, "but in case there was any question, it means a lot to me that you trust me to help out when I can."

They shared a smile, eyes bright, then a tight embrace sealed the moment.

After he had gone, Olivia took a moment to appreciate that the apartment was not only tidy but actually CLEAN. Which meant that except for the laundry to finish putting away, there was nothing for her to do but put up her feet and relax for a change.

She thought about bringing Barba lunch the next day to specifically thank him for going that extra mile, but decided against it when she acknowledged to herself that there was no more "extra mile" when it came to the part they had chosen to play in each other's lives. This was just how it was now between them.

Mind you, she still did bring him lunch. But just because that was how it was now between them, too.


	10. Caring

It had taken Barba about an hour in traffic to make it to the hospital. He'd caught a good Uber driver that had left him to his own devices (as opposed to some of the talkers that seemed to be targeting him lately) and who had recommended a great place for a call-ahead take-out stop on the way.

He'd been communicating with Lucy by text at every stage so his arrival wasn't a surprise and the meal he'd chosen for her hadn't been a guess. It had been his intention to simply drop off the care package that Olivia had put together - drawings from Noah, an iTunes gift card that she could use to load up her iPad with distractions while she maintained her vigil at her mother's bedside, and a collection of snacks Liv knew Lucy would prefer over what was available in the vending machines - but when he found out that she was there alone, that her father was not in the picture, that her grandmother had gone home for the night, he quickly decided to stick around for awhile to keep her company. He dismissed his Uber and sat with her in the hard chairs in the hallway outside her mother's room as she ate and filled him in.

Olivia didn't know that Barba was there. When her afternoon went sideways, he'd offered to take care of the particulars of having the care package delivered, so technically he wasn't being deceitful. He'd just failed to mention he'd be delivering it himself.

He knew if he suggested it she would refuse, not wanting to trouble him. But it was no trouble. He loved making her happy, and he knew that when she inevitably found out it would indeed make her happy to know that he'd made a special effort on behalf of someone she and Noah cared about.

What he hadn't expected was that throughout that evening he would grow to care about Lucy, too.

Her mother was on a ventilator, heavily medicated and rarely conscious, so all Lucy could really do was be close in case something were to change. So after she ate she checked in with the nurses station to make they had her cell number, and then he took her outside so to get some fresh air. For about an hour, they walked and talked about everything BUT her mother's condition, which was a very welcome change for the girl who'd been thinking of nothing else for the last 24 hours. They started just talking about Noah, but it quickly branched out into asking about the other and sharing about themselves.

They started the walk as "Mr. Barba" and "Lucy" and ended it as "Rafa" and "Luce". He found her to be very clever and quick, very easy to talk to. And also deeply, genuinely kind.

"Liv thinks you walk on water, you know," he told her at one point in their conversation.

"That's nice to hear," she said, obviously pleased. "Though I'm pretty sure she feels the same way about you."

They were already back on the floor when the call came and they took off running. They arrived in the room to a cacophony of machines and a team of people surrounding Lucy's mother. Lucy was ordered to stay back, and Barba stood behind her in the corner of the room, his hands on her shoulders and holding her against his chest both to comfort and to keep her from following her instincts and pushing her way to her mother's side.

It turned out that it was all actually good news, that her mother was fighting the breathing tube, her body apparently ready to take over the function on its own. Lucy cried in relief as they extubated, and when things slowed down and the medical personnel started to leave, one of the younger doctors motioned for her to approach. Barba released his hold on her, and was wondering if he should leave when her hand reached back for his and she drew him forward.

He didn't begrudge her the need for support. Though the breathing tube had been removed, her mother's condition was overwhelming to behold - beyond on the wires and IVs and bandages and slings, there was a lot of swelling and bruising, making her unrecognizable as herself.

"Mom? Are you awake?"

She'd explained that there was concern about brain damage due to swelling from the head injury. That her mom's ability - or inability - to speak, to be coherent, would apparently be telling.

"Lucy..."

"Momma?"

Barba stayed close during the tearful reunion, chatting with the doctor who warned that they'd be giving her a sedative soon to help her sleep through the night and give her body more time to heal without the strain of consciousness. He had an Uber waiting by the time Lucy kissed her mother goodnight. "Let's get you home," he said firmly, and before she could voice her protest he added, "There's nothing you can do for her now except to get some rest so you'll be here for her when she wakes up in the morning. Trust me on this, Luce."

He dropped her off at her grandmother's for the night before continuing home. He received a text before he arrived.

 _Thanks for tonight. You really are as wonderful as Liv and Noah say._

He responded immediately.

 _The feeling is mutual._

Two days later Barba was headed back for the hospital, this time with Olivia and Noah. It had been his suggestion that he tag along, and she had no choice but to agree because the suggestion had been made in front of Noah, who would have been the first to shoot down any of her excuses.

When they arrived, Barba led the way, and it didn't occur to Olivia until later that she should have questioned how he knew where he was going.

Noah got the first hug, of course; it couldn't be avoided because he'd run right into Lucy's arms. Olivia stepped in next, an arm around the girl's shoulder. Barba hung back, unnoticed for a while in all the excitement. But when Liv suggested that she take Noah to the washroom before they all went out for lunch and Lucy put the boy down and gave him an encouraging push toward his mother, he had an opening.

"Hey, Luce," he greeted brightly, stepping toward her.

"Rafa! It's good to see you! I didn't know you were coming!" Her arms went around his neck as he encircled her in a tight bear hug.

He could see Olivia over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed with curiosity at this sudden warming between them. He just grinned.

Later, his explanation was not offered but demanded. "That was incredibly sweet of you," she told him quietly as they trailed behind on the way to a nearby restaurant, watching Noah chatter away excitedly to Lucy as though it had been months and not just days since they'd seen each other last.

"I have been known to be sweet when the situation called for it," he deadpanned. "Though if you tell anyone, I'll deny it. And nobody would believe it anyway."

Noah was grabbing his hand then with the hand not already holding Lucy's, asking that they swing him by the arms between them.

As she walked behind the trio Olivia had some moments to reflect, and she acknowledged that Barba probably wasn't wrong that most people who knew him wouldn't believe just what an amazingly kind, devoted, caring friend he could be. It should have made her sad, but it didn't. On the contrary, it made her deeply happy that he'd trusted her enough to let her in, to let her see him for who he really was. And as she watched him laugh and play with Lucy and Noah, her happiness only increased at the realization that for her sake he was willing to extend that trust to the people she loved.


	11. Practical

Barba was happy to meet Lucy and Noah in the hallway outside of Olivia's apartment. Noah's exuberant greetings always did his heart good, and ever since the hours he'd spent with Lucy at the hospital, he found he'd developed an affection for the young woman.

After a few minutes of catching up, Lucy checked her watch. "Okay, kiddo," she said to Noah. "We've got to get going or we won't have time to meet Jeremy at the park before school."

"Can you come with us?" Noah asked hopefully from his place on Barba's hip.

"Sorry, buddy. Not today." Barba pressed a kiss against the boy's temple before setting him down and picking up the briefcase he'd placed against the wall.

"Rafa needs to make sure your mom gets to work, just like I need to make sure you get to school!" Lucy said brightly, trying to curb the boy's disappointment. "And I think your mom needs a little extra help today. But you'll see him soon, I promise. Now let's go – I bet Jeremy's waiting for you right now!"

"Thank you," Barba mouthed to Lucy over Noah's head. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and she smiled before hustling Noah toward the elevator.

Liv was just exiting the bathroom when Barba used his key to let himself into the apartment. When he saw her – and specifically what she was wearing - he was about to apologize for barging in but her greeting (or, rather, lack of greeting) seemed to indicate no apology was necessary.

"Good, you're here. I need your help choosing what outfit will be best for this jury."

"Can I vote for this one?" She was walking around barefoot in a white silk and lace slip that fell mid-thigh.

"Don't be gross. Do you need coffee first?"

"I figured we'd get some on the way so you'll be freshly caffeinated when you take the stand."

They'd prepped her testimony at the courthouse the previous evening, but he'd warned her that the jury hadn't seemed to be responding as well to the more "powerful" female witnesses that had testified so far on either side. Normally he'd never suggest she consider trying a softer approach to see if it might help her connect better, but the trial wasn't going well and he really wanted to nail this guy. He'd still been a bit surprised when she'd agreed without much of a fight.

He followed her to her room and watched from the doorway while she pulled on option 1. "Zip me, please." Then she did a little twirl. "Thoughts? I think it looks good, but it just isn't ME. You know?"

"I agree, on both counts. I need you to be comfortable and still be YOU." He crossed to her open closet and started looking through. "What about just a black pantsuit? You could pair it with this – " he selected a more feminine top with muted colourful print – "to soften it up, and then maybe just go a little more obvious on the jewelry."

"THAT I can do. Thanks. Unzip?" As she stepped out of the outfit, he'd intended to leave her so she could finish getting dressed. But before he could turn to do so, she said, "Okay, can you walk me through the question about the outcry witness again? I had an idea after I got home last night."

"Sure." So Barba moved to half-lay on her bed, propped up on three pillows, and they talked while she stepped into her pants before facing away to pull the slip over her head, leaving her in only her bra before she donned the shirt he had suggested. "Good?" she asked as she added the blazer.

"Perfect," he affirmed.

As she dealt with choosing jewelry, it briefly crossed Barba's mind that perhaps he should feel emasculated by what had just transpired. But then he figured that he'd probably opened the door to it the week before when he'd invited her into his apartment with the bottom half of his face covered with shaving cream and the bottom half of his body covered only with a towel tied snugly around his waist. He'd been running behind but had wanted to deal with her warrant requests before he had to be in court at 9:30, so it made sense for her to brief him, leaning against his bathroom counter, while he finished shaving.

It hadn't been a statement on his part. In fact, until today he hadn't given it a second thought. This was OLIVIA after all, and it wouldn't have occurred to him - or, he imagined, to her - to be bothered about him in a towel at this stage of their friendship, just like he wasn't bothered being in the room while she got dressed that morning.

"These earrings too much?"

"No, I like them."

"In that case, I think I'm ready to go." She took a last look in the mirror, and catching him watching her in the reflection, she finally took a moment to pause and breathe. "Good morning, by the way."

He smiled, his eyes soft and genuine. "Good morning," he echoed as she turned toward him.

"You're looking comfortable."

He heaved a sigh and rolled off the bed. "I'd say comfort isn't exactly our problem."

She chuckled as she led him from the room. "No, I suppose it isn't. And I'm rather glad about that."

"Is that so," he said dryly. "Do tell."

"Well, beyond any sentimental considerations, it apparently means we don't have to rush so much to get dressed in the morning before these early meetings."

"I love it when you're practical," he said fondly, just as his phone made a familiar dinging sound. "Uber's here. So do you need me to pick out your shoes too, Lieutenant? Or can you manage that on your own?"

She slapped his arm in response to his sass. "Don't get TOO comfortable, Counselor."

He just grinned. "I wouldn't dream of it."


	12. Support

"Rafa!" Benson jogged to meet him outside the courtroom. "Sorry, running a bit behind this morning," she apologized, a little breathless.

"Me too." He checked his watch. "7 minutes to spare."

"You ready?" she asked, eyeing him critically.

"Am I?"

The night before he'd called her to check in, and admitted he wasn't as confident about the day ahead as he wanted to be. Since she wasn't on the witness list, she offered to pop in for the first hour or so for moral support through the opening statements. He'd of course refused. She'd of course ignored him.

His response to her inquiry about his readiness was enough to prove she'd made the right decision, and she immediately took over, helping in the only way she really could.

She started at the top, running her fingers quickly through his hair, allowing the copious amounts of product he'd applied that morning to be reactivated by the light rain and mist that had made things unruly to begin with.

On her approach she'd seen him toss a small paper bag into the trash, so suspected he'd had a bagel that morning, and the kind he liked had the little seeds on top. "Teeth," she instructed, and when he presented them she deemed them clear.

She helped him shrug off his soggy overcoat and folded it over his arm. She adjusted his tie and smoothed out the lapels of his jacket before reaching in to extract his phone from the inner pocket. She put in the code from memory and made sure it was switched to silent before returning it.

"How's the coffee situation?"

"Running on empty, I'm afraid."

"I'll get you a refill," she offered, taking the travel mug from him.

"Not from - "

"I know; I'll use the Keurig in Maxwell's office. You go get settled." And she was off jogging again.

She made it back just in time, striding to the barrier separating the gallery from the real action and calling his name. Their fingers brushed as he took the coffee from her, and she gave him a reassuring smile before retreating to one of the few open seats in the back of the room.

There was a note folded and attached to the lid of his cup. He opened it as the proceedings were called to order, and he had to school his expression as he taped it to the corner of the table. Just in case he needed the reminder.

 _You've got this! :D xo_

As he stood when called on for his opening statement, he glanced back at her and she gave him a covert thumbs up. He responded with his usual subtle nod, took a breath, and began.


	13. Distraction

"Hey." Olivia paused the movie they were watching and nudged Barba's thigh with her foot. "You're supposed to be laughing, Barba. That was a funny part. You love that part."

"I know." He sighed, genuinely apologetic. "I'm just having trouble getting out of my head."

She wasn't surprised; it was the whole reason she'd invited herself over after putting Noah to bed and leaving him with Lucy. He'd lost cases before, but this one seemed to be bothering him more than most. She knew he carried not only disappointment in himself, but also the feeling that he had disappointed her, let her down, and no matter what she said he wasn't going to let himself be talked out of that feeling. So along with his anger that a very bad man was going to go free on his watch, it was no wonder that he'd characteristically turned in on himself.

She knew him, and knew that in the morning after some sleep and some distance he'd be able to gain perspective. Until then she wanted to try to draw him out a bit, and she'd hoped an easy evening watching his favourite comedy would at least be able to half-hold his attention. Unfortunately she'd been wrong.

"We can do something else," she offered, sliding closer and laying a supportive arm along the back of the couch behind him. "Something to distract you. Game?"

"Nah."

"We could go out."

"Honestly, I don't think it would get the job done. And I can guarantee I'd be pretty poor company."

"Okay. Wanna get drunk?"

"Yes," he answered immediately and enthusiastically, making her chuckle. "Yes, I absolutely do. But, alas, not as much as I want to avoid going to work with a hangover tomorrow."

"That seems wise," she affirmed. "Hmm." As he watched her expression go from thoughtful to adopting just a hint of self-satisfaction, he was expecting another suggestion which he was prepared to shoot down regardless of what it was. But what happened instead was definitely NOT expected and not something he could have prepared for.

She was kissing him. Properly kissing him. And she kept kissing him until he got over the shock and starting kissing her back.

And then as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Olivia was back on her side of the couch, aiming the remote and hitting 'play'.

It took Barba a good thirty seconds to formulate coherent thought. "Um... Olivia?" Formulating sentences would apparently take longer.

"You're welcome." The hint of self-satisfaction from before had since grown and fully taken over.

There was a very long, sputtering pause before he managed, "What?!"

"You may not be able to focus on the movie, but I'm guessing for the next while at least you won't be thinking about the verdict, either. You'll be too busy contemplating "what the hell just happened" and "what does it all mean". So you're welcome," she concluded smugly.

"Are you - But - " And then he was laughing. What else could he do? "That is the most - Oh, my God! Olivia!"

She refused to engage, just smiling benevolently before turning her attention back to the movie.

As the closing credits rolled she was stretching and on her feet. "Okay, I need to go home and relieve Lucy. You going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks for coming over. And I guess thanks for your, uh, rather unconventional tactics."

"So I take it they worked?" Now she could give in and be silly about it. She led him to the entryway where she slid on her shoes and retrieved her purse from the hook under the mirror. "Do you need me to kiss you again before I go?" she teased.

"I think I'll be alright," he told her with a half-embarrassed chuckle.

"Yes, you will be." She stepped into his personal space until they were practically nose to nose, and when she continued he could feel her warm breath against his lips. "Because you're going to fall asleep tonight thinking not about work, but about whether you should have said 'yes'."

Barba swallowed hard, and she gave him a knowing smirk before she stepped away and out the door.

By the time he had tucked himself into bed, he was feeling much less shell-shocked and was thoroughly amused by what had transpired. But he had to hand it to her: when she was right, she was right.


	14. Teamwork

Barba wasn't particularly surprised when he was ambushed by Olivia in his office. Somehow Carmen had interpreted their deepening friendship as a free pass for Benson to come and go as she pleased. Which was a fair enough interpretation, he supposed, considering he hadn't gotten around to correcting it nor did he have any plans to.

"I won't apologise," he told her immediately. "There was no way you were going to get that warrant on the garbage your guys brought me."

"Yes, yes, you're right."

It didn't matter that Liv was distracted by her phone, in the middle of composing either an email or text. A quick concession meant she was here with bigger fish to fry. "What do you need, Lieutenant?"

"You'll be there Friday, right? You're bringing Carmen?"

"There" was the Police Foundation's biennial gala to raise money for the Manfred Pakas Scholarship Fund. Before the last event, Barba had found out that Carmen had been a recipient, her father having been killed in the line of duty while she was a teenager. So it had been very meaningful to her that he not only supported the event and the fund but had also insisted she come along.

"Actually, I decided to give my ticket to Carmen's boyfriend so they can go together."

"That's perfect. I now have an EXTRA ticket and I need you to be my date," she told him, as though the matter was already settled.

Which, in his mind, it most definitely was NOT. "Wait. What happened to... Parker, was it? The captain at the 9th?"

She huffed in annoyance, still focused on her phone. "The idiot went and got himself shot!"

He blinked at her uncharacteristic callousness. "Wow..."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Rubber bullet. He's going to be fine. He caught a friendly-fire ricochet in a training exercise, but his leg is pretty bruised up. I'm convinced he let it happen specifically to get out of going." Her phone rang in her hand. "Benson. Yeah, hey Fin. Where are we at?" She gave Barba a pleading look.

"Liv, you know how much I hate these things," he hissed.

"You're great at these things!" she reminded him, before speaking back into the phone. "Have Carisi pick me up in front of Barba's office."

"A lot of people are good at things they hate doing," he told her when she paused to listen to Fin's reply. "That doesn't mean they should be forced to do them."

"Hang on one second, Fin." She covered the receiver with her hand. "Please? Please don't make me go to this alone."

"Oh, for the love - Fine, Olivia," he surrendered, knowing instinctively that this was an argument he wasn't going to win. "But wear flats, not those stilts you're so fond of when you're all dressed up. I don't want to spend the night staring at your neck, as lovely as it may be."

"Thank you thank you thank you! I'll call you later!" She gave a happy wave and showed herself out. "I'm on my way out now, Fin. What's Carisi's ETA?"

Barba just shook his head. The things he did for this infuriating woman.

The event was pretty standard: Fancy dinner, keynote speaker, an invitation for those that were able to open their cheque books and give beyond the $500 a plate ticket fee. Then came the schmoozing, where the city's elite made sure they were seen by the people and press representatives that mattered. And for those who were blissfully there with little or nothing to prove, there was dancing and a cash bar.

Both Benson and Barba were happy to support the cause; it was the schmoozing they were expected to do by their respective bosses - the DA and Dobbs, also in attendance - that they could take or leave.

At least when she was on his arm they could tag team these political encounters, sharing the conversational load and playing off of each other. And when Olivia skillfully diffused a state senator's stump speech ramp-up, Barba pulled her onto the dance floor in celebration, speaking low and close to her ear, "I need to bring you to these things more often."

Her sensible shoes gave him about a half-inch height advantage, allowing them to fit comfortably together as they swayed to the slow music. "So what do you think?" she asked conspiratorially. "Have we put in our time? Is there anyone left we need to smile at before we can get out of here?"

"Am I really such terrible company?" he teased, his hand tightening at her waist.

"If it's any consolation, I don't mind this part at all," she said with a smile before pressing her cheek to his.

"Just don't look like you're having TOO much fun," he warned. "Half the people here have enough clout to get us transferred or fired. The last thing we need is for one of tomorrow's gossip headlines to read "Conflict of interest in the DA's office"."

She hummed in annoyed agreement. "If you're worried, maybe we should divide and conquer for awhile," she suggested, putting some more space between them.

At a swell in the music, Barba spun her out before drawing her back in even closer than before. "I'm not THAT worried."


	15. Sensational

It didn't surprise Olivia when she arrived home and it was Barba and not Lucy greeting her from the couch. It also didn't surprise her to see the pissed off expression on his face. She knew hers must look very similar.

"I see you got started without me," she accused, referring to the drink in his hand.

"Don't worry. I'll take a break so you can catch up."

"Good." She took his glass from him and downed it in a gulp, the scotch burning her throat and making her eyes water.

It had been a terrible day. Terrible in the office, terrible in the squad room, terrible in the court room, terrible in the press. Just plain terrible.

Barba had obviously already been home because he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He'd apparently decided that misery loved company and had invited himself over, relieving Lucy and helping himself to the liquor stash that had diversified since he started spending more time there.

Olivia was still dressed in her work clothes, her court clothes. She kicked off her heels like they had been the cause of all the horribleness. "I need to change. And shower. And maybe throw some things." But her intentions threatened to be derailed by the sound of Noah calling for her over the baby monitor.

"I'll go," Barba told her. "You take your shower and change. But don't throw things without me."

"I make no promises."

Noah didn't seem to need anything, and he was happy enough to see Barba that he'd forgotten he'd been asking for his mother. Barba refused the request for a story, but laid down next to him and allowed the boy, still half asleep, to climb onto his chest and settle there, his head tucked under Barba's chin. And during the time it took for Liv to shower and change and NOT throw things, Barba had to admit that the weight and steady breathing of the sleeping child made him feel just a little better. He was kind of disappointed when she appeared in the doorway, hair dripping onto a long nightshirt that almost totally obscured the shorts she was wearing from view, and gestured that he should join her back in the living room.

She was setting out fresh glasses and a small variety of beverages on the coffee table along with pizza left over from the previous night.

Before he could open his mouth she was ready with her plan. "Here's how this is going to go, Rafael: We are going to drink a little too much, we are going to watch crap television, and we're not going to talk about what happened."

They _did_ talk about what happened eventually, once they were a bit buzzed. They bitched and complained about everything that had gone wrong and all the people that had screwed the pooch so very thoroughly. And they toasted each other for being the ones that had held the whole shit-show together and had honestly been in no way at fault for things going south in the end.

By the time they'd transitioned from "a bit buzzed" to "just drunk enough", they were feeling much better about the whole situation and about life in general.

"Rub my feet," she all but ordered halfway through an episode of some late night talk show that had them giggling like fools. She tossed him the tube of lotion she'd brought with her from the shower and had earlier spread over her neck and arms. It smelled like strawberries, and drunk Barba liked strawberries, so he was happy to oblige. But even if he'd been sober he wouldn't have minded. He barely paid attention at all as he didn't stop at her feet but continued up to her calves almost to her knees, using long, smooth, gentle strokes.

Olivia was apparently paying attention. When his fingers ventured even higher to brush her inner thigh and she made sort of a strangled sound, he met her eyes and what he found there was pure lust.

Barba froze. Well, his mind froze. His fingers just kept doing what they were doing and then her fingers were touching his fingers and she looked like she was about to lean forward and -

"Nope. Uh-uh. No." He grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs off his lap.

Without the influence of alcohol, Olivia might have been horrified at her lapse, her presumption. But of course without the alcohol it wouldn't have happened at all. As it was, it just made her brave, a kind of bravery that only needed to be expressed by a raised eyebrow to see him scrambling to the other side of the couch with a not so flippant, "Away from me, vile temptress" offset by a huge grin.

As she started to come to her senses she felt like she should at least put blame where it was due. "Hey! Let me remind you that YOU were the one being handsy!"

"And you were the one running around in those little shorts and putting your very soft, very smooth, very..." He got a little distracted looking at them before he continued. "...attractive legs in my reach. So this is on you." He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered the offending skin. "Don't get me wrong - I am bursting with manly pride right now to have gotten you all hot and bothered. But we are less than sober. And there's no way we're risking messing this - " he gestured between them - "up for something as fleeting as an orgasm. Though to be clear..." He playfully leaned close to her and his voice dropped half an octave at least. "...I would have given you several, and they would have been sensational." He kissed her forehead and quickly got to his feet.

"Oh, my God." Then her cheeks were turning pink and she was laughing and her delight and embarrassment seemed so lovely to his booze-addled brain.

He had crossed the room and was shrugging on his discarded jacket before he could change his mind. "I'm going to leave you to take care of - " He made a broad motion toward her. "- whatever you need to take care of, and I'm going to head home. I'll be in your office tomorrow morning at 9:15 with coffee."

He was true to his word and five minutes early, looking significantly less hungover than she felt. Closing the door behind him, he strode to her desk and handed Olivia her favourite gourmet blend before sitting down across from her. All business, anyone would have thought. But as soon as he spoke his pleased-with-himself smirk gave him away. "So, Lieutenant. Did you manage to have a fun night after I left?"

If it had been anyone else, she might have blushed. But this was Barba, and with him she could take it just as easily as she could dish it out. Which she did. "Oh, you know. It wasn't quite "sensational", but it was alright."

He laughed aloud, and she laughed right along with him.

"Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you understood that while I very purposefully haven't given it a great deal of thought, I'm not necessarily opposed to one or both of us having a "sensational" evening now and then. But..." He leaned forward slightly, and his tone grew more sincere. "But I love this. I love us. And I just feel like anything in our control that may threaten to significantly change our dynamic - for good or otherwise - should be prefaced by a discussion, don't you? Preferably one not fuelled by alcohol or sentiment or... well, your horniness."

"Oh. Okay, so that's just my problem then?" she joked as she stood and came around her desk, leaning on the edge next to him.

"I'm aware I haven't been Mirandized, but I believe I still have the right to remain silent." He glanced at his watch. "So, we good?" And a slight change in his voice indicated a break in the confidence that had coloured every word up to that point.

"Of course," she assured him, meaning it. "Though you need to tell me the truth - did you memorise that closing argument?"

He smirked again as he got to his feet. "No, actually. Which I realise is kind of surprising, since I think it might have been some of my best work." He squeezed her arm affectionately. "I'll see you in court later."

Her response was a nod and a grateful smile that nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing.

"Hey, Counselor," she called after him as he reached for the doorknob.

He stopped and turned. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"'Several' orgasms?" she quoted.

"To start," he confirmed with a wink. And her laughter followed him out the door.


	16. Enough

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** I expect that this will be the last update for awhile, so I will mark this story as "complete". However as the urge overtakes me I fully expect to add to this in the future, so be sure to " follow"! Thanks to everyone who has provided their feedback and shared their enjoyment!

* * *

Barba was sitting on her couch, on his phone as usual, when she entered her office, shutting and locking the door behind her. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," she told him before he had a chance to say a word. "Get the blinds, would you? I need to change."

"Sure, but you're going to have to hurry. We're on in 5."

With Fin behind the wheel on the way back to the precinct, she'd been able to fix her hair and refresh her makeup in the car while she and Barba had worked out their game plan over Bluetooth. But her blouse was torn and the right sleeve caked with dried blood, not her own. She peeled it off and tossed it in the garbage bin beside her desk, leaving her in a simple black sports bra. "They'll just have to wait. It's not like they can start the press conference without us."

"I'm afraid Dodds will try to take over if he thinks we aren't going to show up."

"Fair point." She was at her closet, opening two garment bags to review what she'd left there as her emergency options. The black pants she was wearing would have to do. She held up the shirt choices. "Which one?"

He grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and approached to wipe at a smudge on her neck. "Go with the blue; you'll match my tie."

"Yes, because that's what everyone will be worried out. Blazer? No blazer?"

"Blazer, definitely. And for the love of God lose those heels. They'll make me look like a hobbit next to you."

Rollins had been at her desk talking to Carisi when Olivia had breezed past them into her office. She was still there when Olivia breezed past again, this time with Barba in tow.

"Oh, my God."

"What?" Carisi asked, alarmed at her tone and expression.

"Did Liv just change her clothes with Barba in the room?"

And so marked the return of the debate about the nature of their relationship, which turned out to be the theme of the day.

The press conference was a success, with Liv and Barba playing off of each other perfectly and staying completely on message when handling questions. If she hadn't been immediately pulled aside by Dodds, Barba might have had to fight the urge to offer her a high five before he headed to his office.

"Extremely well handled," Dodds congratulated. "Can I buy you dinner, Lieutenant? If you don't have plans, of course."

That was not an invitation that Liv had been expecting. "Uh... no, no plans. I just need to be home by 7:30 to relieve the nanny and put my son to bed."

"That will give us plenty of time. I'll drive."

On the way they talked about work, but Olivia could tell he was trying to ramp up to something. It wasn't until their food had arrived that he finally started in. "I know I haven't always been easy on you, but I hope you've gotten a sense that I'm in your corner, that I support what you do."

"I have. And I appreciate it."

"And you have certainly been worth supporting. You've really come into your own especially in these last years. Frankly, I'm proud of you, Lieutenant."

"Thanks, Chief. That means a lot. Honestly." Though she would have been more touched if she wasn't so deeply suspicious.

"And I think you'd agree that ADA Barba has been a part of the success you've seen. The two of you have developed a rather formidable partnership."

"We work well together. And he's very good at what he does." She didn't bother to hide the fondness in her voice; it didn't occur to her that she would need to.

Until Dodds finally said what he'd brought her there to say.

"And I think it would be a shame to threaten that partnership due to a failure to disclose your relationship in a timely fashion. I'm all for finding a way to make it work so neither of you have to transfer out, and I'm willing to go to bat with the DA on that. But if you let this go much longer and someone finds out that shouldn't find out, I don't know that I'll be able to help you."

Olivia was speechless. Actually speechless.

Which Dodds of course completely misinterpreted. "Not to worry, Lieutenant. You don't need to say anything right now and it's probably better that you don't. And it's obviously something the two of you need to talk about together first."

She coughed, trying to find her voice. "Can I ask... what brought this conversation about? Was there an accusation?"

"Nothing like that. Just my own two eyes, Olivia. Though I'm surprised I haven't gotten a call; you haven't exactly been hiding it. And I probably should have said something earlier. It's just after watching the two of you today at that press conference, I decided it was time to double down on my commitment to seeing the two of you continue on professionally. It's good for the department and good for the city."

"Wow. Okay." She drained her glass, returning to her senses. "Well, first of all, sir, I want you to know that I don't take what you're offering here lightly. I'm very grateful that you would come to me with this and be so willing to make accommodations to keep myself and Barba in the positions that we are in."

Dodds just nodded.

"But there actually ISN'T anything romantic between Barba and me. We're definitely very close friends, and we do spend time together outside of work, but there has been nothing even close to an indiscretion that would require disclosure."

"So he IS gay." Dodds blurted, then immediately backtracked. "Don't answer that. My apologies; that is completely none of my business."

"It's okay, sir," Olivia continued, not being able to fight a chuckle at Dodds' slip and obvious embarrassment. "Though to be clear, while it's not something we've explicitly discussed I'm pretty sure that's NOT the case based on his previous romantic relationships with women." And the time that she'd kissed him and left him shell-shocked. And the time he'd referenced the possibility of several orgasms. But Dodds didn't need to know any of that.

"Well, okay then." Now it was him pausing for a drink and to pull his thoughts together. "So... why don't we just put a pin in this. And assuming nothing changes in the quality of your working relationship, you can tuck my words into your back pocket and pull them out should they ever be relevant to your situation. You hearing me, Lieutenant?"

"Loud and clear, sir." It was easier to agree than to invite further conversation on the matter. And so it was back to safer topics for the remainder of the meal and the ride home.

After Noah had gone to bed, Liv called Barba to fill him in. She regretted that she hadn't done it in person when the thought of Dodds cornering her, over dinner no less, sent him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter which she couldn't help but join in on. "I wish you could have been there," she told him, "just to see what you would have done."

"I don't even KNOW what I would have done." They laughed some more as they speculated.

It was perhaps the fact they WEREN'T speaking in person that led to things turning more reflective than usual once the mirth had finally worn off.

"Is this enough for you?" Liv asked him simply.

"What do you mean?"

"This. Us."

"Oh." There was a long pause before Barba continued. "I don't really feel like anything's missing. Do you?"

"No," Liv affirmed genuinely. "And that's not why I brought it up. I was just curious, because we've never talked about it: Do you want anything more from this?"

A loud sigh followed by a self-deprecating chuckle. "Honestly, Liv? I don't know that I'm comfortable answering that, only because of what the word 'want' could potentially open up just in my own mind."

She smiled. "Okay. 'Need" then."

"That's much easier. The answer is definitely NO. Beyond whatever tensions we might have at work from time to time, this just feels so easy and uncomplicated." He was warming to the topic now, the opening to express what was in his heart without seeming sappy or melodramatic, because he was simply answering her question. "To be able to have what we have, and just be FRIENDS, without...everything else... To not have to worry about where this is going, or what people will think, or whether we're going to lose our jobs or get transferred. To not have to leverage expectations, or trying to find time in our busy schedules, or even deal with morning breath. This is... it's a gift, Liv."

"I agree," she answered after a moment, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. "I guess I was worried you'd feel like I was using you or taking you for granted."

"Use me," he deadpanned immediately. "If this is what using me looks like, do it. I'll take it. It's my new favourite thing." And then they were laughing again.

"Was it just Dodds that brought this on?" Barba eventual inquired. "Or does it also have something to do with the almost "sensational" evening we could have had if I hadn't gotten the hell out of dodge after you made the sexy face at me?"

"Oh, my God. I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Not a chance. Just embrace it. It's a part of our story. And I love our story."

So did she. It was a damn good story.


	17. Nicknames

**Setting:** As with all the later chapters of this fic, this is set sometime after 19x9 ("Gone Baby Gone"). No spoilers.

* * *

"I'll be right back," Liv called out as she breezed by the living room where her son and her friend were building lego before dinner. She'd had her hands full on the way up after work and hadn't been able to check her mail for a letter she'd been waiting for, so she'd decided to take advantage of Barba's presence while it was on her mind. "Babe, can you stir the sauce in a minute?"

Noah and Barba both paused and looked at each other. After a beat, Barba's brow furrowed and he pointed to Noah in confusion.

Noah shook his head. "I'm not allowed to use the stove by myself."

When there was no reply Olivia assumed she hadn't been heard so she tried again from halfway out the door. "Rafa? Okay for the sauce?"

"Mommy, you called Ra -"

Barba clapped a hand over the boy's month. "Sauce. Got it covered. Let's go, kid - you can help me." He picked him up under one arm and carried him laughing to the kitchen.

Later, they were playing an intense game of Go Fish around the coffee table when Olivia's phone buzzed. "I'm sorry, guys, but Fin's about to call and I need to take this. Rafa, would you mind helping Noah with his bath?"

Spaghetti night usually wasn't bath night, but things had gotten shifted around that week for reasons that were partly his fault. Of course, even if that hadn't been the case Barba was more than happy to help out. "Sure," he answered agreeably, then shot a conspiratorial look at Noah. "I can do that. Babe."

"I beg your pardon?"

And then Noah lost it, dissolving into giggles as though it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Barba wasn't far behind him.

For her part, Olivia had no idea what was going on. But her phone rang and there wasn't time to find out.

The call and the tasks that were needed following it took much longer than she'd anticipated, so it wasn't until after Noah's bath was over and Barba had put him to bed without being asked so as not to disturb her that she finally got to question him.

"I've gotta run, Liv. Noah's all settled for night. Thanks for dinner!"

"Hold on, mister." She stopped him at the door as he was putting on his shoes. "Do I get to be let in on the inside joke?"

With his usual smirk, he revealed, "You called me 'babe' earlier today."

"I did no such thing!" Olivia looked positively scandalized, which made it all the more amusing to Barba.

"Oh, but you definitely did. Noah and I had to try to figure out which one of us you were talking to."

Liv wracked her brain to try to remember saying it, but to no avail. And since he had no reason to lie about it, she had to resign herself to the slip. "Well. That's a bit mortifying."

Seeing the colour rise to her cheeks in an uncharacteristic blush, Barba chose to let her off the hook rather than tease further. "Olivia, I've come to accept you as a woman of a million mindless cutesy nicknames when it comes to your son. Frankly I'm kind of surprised I don't get caught in the crossfire more often."

"I remember calling a teacher 'mom' more than once," she admitted. "I suppose it's the same thing. Though no less embarrassing."

"As long as you don't call ME 'mom', we're probably okay." With a smile, he dropped a quick kiss on her cheek... and found that despite his initial intentions he just couldn't help himself. "Enjoy your night...princess."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, my God."

"See you tomorrow, pookie."

"I will end you."

"Have sweet dreams, sugar plum."

"Shut up, you!" She punctuated each word with a slap on his arm, effectively driving him out the door even as she joined in his laughter.

The next day she texted him to ask him to stop by the precinct regarding a case, their first contact since the previous night's foolishness. In her office, surrounded by her squad, his response caught her off guard and caused a rather girlish giggle to slip out, a reaction that would have been inappropriate even if they WEREN'T in the middle of a discussion about a brutal assault: "Sorry, *babe*. No can do. In court 'til at least 4."

She was quick to school her features but the damage was done. "Uh, Barba can't make it." Carisi and Rollins exchanged glances. Fin raised an eyebrow. And Olivia hoped that no one noticed the effects of the heat she felt in her cheeks. She tapped out a quick response - "I hate you." - before putting her phone away and ignoring the response that chimed about 30 seconds later.

When she finally did check her messages much later in the afternoon, she was glad she had left it until she was alone, because she probably would have blushed again when she read his reply: "Anyone ever told you that you're pretty adorable when you're embarrassed?"


	18. Floodgates

**Setting:** Sometime before Barba's exit.

It's not that they didn't touch or weren't comfortable touching. They did and they were. Even while working, even in public, it was nothing for a hand to brush or clasp a shoulder, an arm, to guide from the small of a back, to wrap around an elbow to redirect. And in private they were always in and out of each other's personal space without thought. Casual. Comfortable.

It was just that up until this point and accepting that the night where things had nearly gotten "sensational" between them was statistically aberrant, any _major_ and certainly any _prolonged_ body contact had always been functional: an act of comfort or thanks or congratulations, a way to bring closure to a particularly heavy moment between them, or in their first such interaction literally trying to keep warm during a winter power outage.

When Olivia had laughed at a video she was watching on her phone, and rather than taking it from her to see what the fuss was about Barba had slid closer so they could view it together, that wasn't new. When she brought her knees toward her chest and leaned back against him so he could watch over her shoulder, his arm along the couch behind her, that could be considered comparable to past actions.

But when the video ended and she swiped to her Twitter feed while he clicked on the TV to watch the news, and she slouched so that the back of her head came to rest against his temple and his hand came to rest against the outside of her thigh and they _weren't moving,_ weren't retreating, THAT was new.

Also new was the consciousness of it. She was making a choice not to move away. He was making a choice to hold her there. But not because they were reacting to any stirrings, not because they were trying to make a statement. It just felt nice.

It felt so nice that when she had caught up on social media she tossed her phone aside and turned to extend her legs so that her feet were pressed against his on the coffee table. His arm was no longer around her, but they sat shoulder to shoulder. And when his fingers found tentative purchase just above her knee, she covered his hand to keep it there.

Yes, very nice. But very new.

Minutes passed before Barba, being Barba, couldn't resist the urge to mute the TV and talk about it. "Not that I'm in any way suggesting we stop what we're doing, but does this seem kinda close to entering "friends-with-benefits" territory to you?"

"Are you asking if I'm one couch-cuddle away from trying to rip your clothes off?"

"Uh - no. Which is in and of itself enough to warrant my question, don't you think?"

"What I think is that we've already had this conversation." Releasing his hand, Olivia tucked her legs under her so she could face him. "You said you were fine with me 'using' you. You were all for it if I remember correctly."

His feet left the coffee table and he too turned in, sitting Indian-style casually as though this was the most normal discussion two friends could be having.

"Those were simpler times," he told her, his voice and expression neutral, just stating a fact.

The neutrality made it difficult for Olivia to discern exactly what he was trying to say, to lead them to. And since they were apparently beyond any coyness this type of conversation might normally engender, she decided to simply ask. "So does that mean you're NOT okay with me 'using' you anymore? Because I could point out that you were the one that just put your hand on my leg all smooth and nonchalant-like. You could have kept your mouth shut and let me assume you were making a move on me if that would have made you feel better."

" _Would_ you have assumed that?"

"Well... actually no."

"And we're back to the reason for my original question."

She found it frustrating when he tried to talk about personal subjects with the air of a professional litigator. "Okay, _Counselor_ ," she stressed. "I concede your point. Maybe we're acting a little high school cuddle-buddy or GBF for two middle aged straight people. But let's face it - "friends-with-benefits" would be entirely inaccurate considering you picked my kid up from a play date today, cooked us dinner, did the dishes, and if I'm not mistaken fit in at least two loads of laundry. We're more like "married-people-withOUT-benefits"."

"So just "married people", then," Barba joked, and they both chuckled. "Anyway, that reminds me that I need to fold the sheets before they get wrinkled. I'm sorry I brought this all up."

He tried to stand but she stopped him. "No you're not. So why don't we just skip the verbal gymnastics like good married people and you can get to your point."

"Have you always been this much of a nag?"

She slapped his arm playfully. "Don't deflect."

"Fine. You win." He reached for the glass of Scotch on the end table and downed what remained, as liquid courage and to give himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "I guess I was just trying to process and reflect on how far we let this go without acknowledging the fact that we ARE middle aged straight people playing house and being oddly okay with it."

"Well, apparently exactly THIS far, since you just did." She soothed his obvious sheepishness by leaning into his side. Perhaps proving whatever point he was dancing around, but she was tired from her long day and from the second glass of wine she'd allowed herself after dinner and he was solid and warm and smelled good and who the hell even cared anyway.

Not him, apparently. At least not enough to keep him from resting his chin on the top of her head and settling his hand low on her hip. And he hadn't had enough Scotch to use it as an excuse.

"So. Named, acknowledged, oddly okay. That covers everything, I'd say. We good, Rafa?"

He couldn't quite hold in the laugh that her no-nonsense summation prompted. "Yeah, Liv. I guess we are."

She sat up, pulled away, looked at him thoughtfully as though she had something insightful to add, something tender to assure him with. Instead: "Good. Because the laundry isn't going to fold itself."

They both laughed, and then they folded the sheets together.

(Much later they would point to this night, this conversation, as what opened the floodgates, as what ushered in the inevitable. And they would tease each other fondly about just how oblivious they had both been for so long about where it all was heading.)


	19. Liberties

**A/N -** I may flesh this out or at least clean it up during the planned canon-compliance rewrite (should TPTB give us enough information to figure out where Barba has landed). I just felt like I needed to write SOMETHING to get myself out of the post-exit funk!

 **PART A: Chapstick and Personal Space**

They'd been all but ignoring each other for the last two hours, Liv at his conference table and Barba behind his desk. He'd invited her after he'd knocked on the door of her office earlier that afternoon and she'd nearly bitten his head off. She was quick to apologise, of course, to explain that she was drowning in administrative paperwork and her squad had chosen that day to apparently believe they couldn't do anything without bothering her about it first. Barba's suggestion that she come hide out in his office where Carmen would be on duty to protect them from intruders was immediately accepted, revealing the depth of her desperation as she wasn't one to abandon her post.

Every time he'd glanced at her she'd seemed focused, productive. Until now. Now she was digging around in her oversized purse Mary Poppins' style, and he half expected her to pull out a coat rack.

"I'll looking for my Chapstick," she explained when she caught sight of him watching. "It's dry in here." More rummaging, followed by a defeated sigh. "I give up."

"I should have some in my coat pocket," he offered helpfully.

"You use Chapstick?"

"It's dry in here," he parroted with a wry grin.

"Fair enough," she conceded, reaching inside the coat he'd carefully folded across the back of the chair next to her. "You sure you don't mind?"

"As long as you don't have cholera or dysentery or something, I suppose it's okay."

"Well then, it's my lucky day. I'm entirely free of Gold Rush era diseases."

He huffed a little laugh and turned his attention back to his work.

A few weeks later, Barba opened his office door and was surprised to hear Olivia's voice. Doubly surprised because he'd been talking to Carmen in his waiting area for the last five minutes or so and she'd neglected to mention he had a visitor. He found her behind his desk, talking on his phone. She gave him a little smile and wave and carried on as he sat across from her to wait.

Finally - "Hey, Rafa. How did things go in court?" And as they chatted it became clear that once again she'd just needed to get away from the precinct.

A few weeks later, he pulled out the Chapstick as he walked with her to the courthouse, and when he finished applying it he offered it to her. She accepted.

And after that, no more offering was needed. If she needed Chapstick, she reached into his pocket and got Chapstick. Sometimes while alone in his office when Carmen hadn't seen a problem with letting her in.

 **PART B: Coffee**

Their ritual was that whoever requested the meeting brought the coffee. Or that the bearer of bad news (or sometimes good news) brought the coffee. Or whoever showed up for an unexpected visit. Sometimes the rules weren't quite as clear and they ended up with four cups between them. But always coffee. And always (at least) enough for two.

Well, USUALLY enough for two. Occasionally they ran into each other by accident, unprepared. And one of those times was in the courthouse when Olivia was running late and hadn't had the time to stop at the coffee cart on her way in.

"What are you doing here?" Barba inquired when he met Olivia in the hall.

"I've been called in by Judge Armitage about a chain of custody issue."

"Need backup?"

"What I need is another few hours of sleep or a caffeine IV."

Barba smiled sympathetically. "Here," he said, handing her his coffee cup. "Not exactly an IV but might give you a boost."

"Bless you. Walk with me?"

And so she sipped as they walked and as he delivered her to her destination she passed the coffee back. After bidding her farewell, he drank what was left and tossed the cup in the nearest trash bin.

A few days later she'd found him hiding in a booth at Forlini's. "That's not scotch," she pointed out needlessly as she slid in across from him, signalling to Anthony for the usual. "But it doesn't look like regular coffee, either."

"Still on the clock, but you're right: Anthony talked me into trying some hipster coffee-like something or other from the new machine. Jury's still out."

"Need a second opinion?" He pushed the tiny mug toward her and Liv took a sip. "I like it."

He gave her crooked smile. "I'll take that under advisement."

And after that, Olivia didn't hesitate to sample his drinks or steal his coffee in a caffeine emergency.

 **PART 3: Clothes**

The hooded sweatshirt from their Christmas adventure she'd already laid claim to. But she'd collected a few other items of his clothing along the way which she'd never bothered to return. She'd told herself that it made sense to keep them at her place in case he ever needed them there, in case he was over and she got called out to work and he ended up staying the night with Noah. In case they were up late prepping for court and it made sense for him to crash there. In case he didn't have time to change before coming over for spaghetti night and he wanted to be comfortable or avoid getting sauce on something that would need to be dry cleaned.

Perfectly good excuses. Perfectly logical arguments.

But the morning he'd shown up unexpectedly and found her dressed in his things literally from head to toe, there was no excuse or logical argument for that.

She had blushed, but he had only commented that he'd forgotten she had those particular socks before jumping into the reason he'd stopped by.

And after that, Olivia stopped kidding herself and would often wear his clothes to bed or when home and relaxing with Noah.

 **PART 4: Cherry tomatoes**

"I'm so sorry; I've got to take this."

Noah reached for Barba's abandoned lunch and was about to abscond with the pickle when Olivia diverted his hand. "Noah, you know it's rude to eat off of someone else's plate without asking."

Normally Noah was the type to take correction in stride, apologize and move on. However he was entering a questioning phase and noticing inconsistencies in the rules as he'd been taught them. So Olivia was neither surprised nor unprepared when he pointed out, "But _you_ did it."

"I suppose you're right, but that was a little different," she explained patiently. "I was taking the cherry tomatoes out of Rafa's salad because he doesn't like them."

"Oh. Okay." And it looked like he was poised to accept that answer until his little brow furrowed. "But wait. He DOES like them. He told me."

"I think you're mistaken, babe."

"No, really! We ate some as a snack when we were waiting for you to come home for spaghetti night!"

There was no sense arguing with him since it was kind of beside the point she was trying to make. "Anyway, Noah, Rafa and I have an arrangement. That means he already told me that I could always have them. So I had permission." She was also very sure he was wrong about this.

It had been months ago over a working lunch that Barba had ordered a large garden salad that contained a rather ridiculous number of cherry tomatoes. He'd immediately commented on this with what she has discerned was distaste.

"I think it looks incredible," she had told him.

"I take it you're a fan."

"They're my favourite, actually. If you DON'T like them, I'm happy to take them off your hands."

And after that, any cherry tomatoes on his plate had found their way to hers.

"You look mad," Noah said of Barba when he returned to the table.

"Not mad, kiddo. Just disappointed. Sorry, team Benson. I've gotta run."

"Everything okay?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah, just someone camped out at my office insistent we meet today." He popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth and then tipped the remaining pickle onto Noah's plate, much to the boy's delight. "Can you get this, Liv?" Their bill hadn't arrived yet. "I'll get the next one."

"I suppose that's okay, especially since I'm pretty sure I'm three or four behind," she agreed with a grin. It was probably more than that but they had stopped keeping score a long time ago.

"Uncle Rafa, you like cherry tomatoes right?"

The question caught Barba off guard and he paused in the middle of shrugging on his jacket. "Well..." He glanced at Olivia, then back to Noah. "Let's just say I don't like them as much as your mom does." Then he snatched a french fry from Noah's lunch and made his escape before Olivia could comment. "Later, you two."

Noah was pleased to have been vindicated all around, and went on to share that pleasure with his mom, pointing out in his childlike way that Barba did indeed like cherry tomatoes, and also that if Uncle Rafa could steal food from him, it was unlikely that he found it rude and certainly turnabout would only be fair play moving forward.

 **PART 5: Liberties**

The next day, Barba was surprised to find Olivia sitting _outside_ his office, looking subdued. "What's up?" he asked as he gestured for her to follow him in after a quick exchange with his assistant.

As he got settled behind his desk, Liv reached into the shopping bag she was carrying and began to lay things out in front of him: all of the clothes she had borrowed and not given back, a gift card for his favourite coffee shop, lip balm still in the package, and a tupperware container filled with cherry tomatoes and topped with a festive bow. "Leave it to my son to bring to my attention that I've been taking some liberties with you. I didn't know how to wrap 'respecting personal space'. But I'm assuming you get the idea."

Barba was amused. "I take it that it hasn't occurred to you that I have never considered anything about our friendship as 'taking liberties'. Can't it just be that I LIKE sharing with you?"

"You never drink out of MY coffee cup or use MY chapstick."

"That's because I can't stand the way you take your coffee, and if YOU can't find your chapstick in your purse, how am *I* supposed to find it?" He smiled and continued. "And before you ask about the rest: I don't take over your office for the same reason you DO take over mine. And I don't wear your clothes because a) there hasn't been a need, and b) most of your clothes aren't exactly my size. Or style, for that matter."

"Oh, I don't know. I have a few low-cut dresses you could probably pull off." They chuckled together, but then she pressed, "What about the cherry tomatoes? I'm guessing you don't have a quick come-back for those."

He rolled his eyes. "Jesus, this seems very junior high to have to say out loud."

"Humour me."

"Fine." He took a moment to collect his thoughts, but it didn't help to make his words feel less ridiculous coming out of his mouth. "The cherry tomatoes... it's our thing. And really, you making yourself at home in my office, all these 'liberties' you take, those are 'things' too. And I like having 'things' with you. Because close friends have...'things'."

Throughout his explanation, Olivia's expression had turned tender. But her voice was still a bit teasing as she clarified, "So you're saying you like it when I use your lip balm or wear your clothes or whatever because it reflects intimacy between us? That's honestly pretty precious."

He could feel his ears turning red. "Suddenly I'm preferring my junior high explanation."

"In that case..." She was on her feet now, and the bag was back in her hands. "These clothes are mine now. You're not getting them back. The Chapstick you can keep because I'll just end up borrowing it - maybe keep it in your desk so it's here even when you're not, since you know I probably will be. The coffee card you can keep too, since you'll just be buying coffee for us to share. And you can snack on these today - " she removed the top on the cherry tomatoes - "but I'm taking some with me for the road." She paused for effect. "Unless I need to take all of them in order for it to still be our 'thing'?"

"I'm going to take the 'liberty' of telling you and your sass to get out of my office, Lieutenant. You're going to be late for work." Then he leaned forward and raised an eyebrow, throwing some sass of his own. "And just to warn you, I will also be planning in the future to take the 'liberty' of teasing you about this grand gesture more than once. But to be clear, it was honestly pretty precious, too."

Olivia flushed with equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. They shared a laugh, and she went on about her day with a little more insight into Barba's feelings for her and a warm contentment that accompanied that insight.

And after that, it was 'taking liberties' itself that became 'their thing', expressing their care for each other and the importance of their friendship much more clearly than words ever could.


	20. Fear

**SETTING:** Takes place during 19x13 ("The Undiscovered Country").

 **February 6th, 2018**

Barba had programmed Olivia's home phone into his cell not because he ever used it, but because he knew that his number was listed for emergencies on her fridge for babysitters or for Noah himself and he didn't want to miss an important call because of an "unknown caller". So when "Benson - home" showed up on his call display, he couldn't NOT answer.

"Uncle Rafa? Something's wrong with my mom and I'm scared. Can you come over?"

Biting down his initial reaction, Barba did his best to keep his voice calm. "Is she hurt? Is she bleeding or anything?"

"No. No, I don't think so."

"Good. That's good, Noah. Where is she now?"

"She's in the bathroom. She said she was going to take a shower, but I could hear her crying and I think she got sick. She says she's okay but she won't let me come in."

Barba closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Alright, buddy. I'm already in a taxi, so I'm just going to come right to your place, okay? You hang on for one second." He covered the phone just long enough to give the driver the new address. "You don't have anything to worry about, okay? I'm on my way, and I'm going to stay on the phone with you until I get there. Why don't you tell me about school today, huh?

And while he coaxed details and stories from the boy, part of his mind was occupied with trying to figure out the best way to handle the situation. He knew he was the reason for Olivia's sadness and he felt horrible about it, but he couldn't steer clear just for his own comfort when Noah was reaching out to him.

"Noah Porter Benson! What did I say about using the phone without permission?!" Her stress made Olivia snap more harshly then she meant to and caused Noah to finally lose it, bursting into tears just as Barba used his key to open the door.

Instead of going to Olivia for comfort as he normally would, Noah ran to Barba and was lifted into his arms, his little body shaking with near-silent sobs.

For her part, Olivia felt intruded on, exposed. Her eyes and nose were red, standing out starkly against her paler than usual skin. Her wet hair was uncombed. And perhaps the worst and most revealing part was that as soon as Barba looked at her she was crying again, despite having been sure she'd gotten herself under control.

"Okay, team Benson. Let's all just take a breath here." Still holding Noah, he managed to close the door behind him and toe off his shoes. "Little man, you give your mami a hug. She didn't mean to scare you, did you, Liv?"

"Of course not. Come here, baby. I'm sorry."

Barba divested himself of his coat and scarf and led them to the couch with a guiding hand low on Olivia's back. He grabbed a box of tissues from the counter on the way by, offering them to Olivia as they sat down, taking one himself and helping Noah blow his nose after the boy crawled over and curled up in Barba's lap.

"Rafa..." Olivia began.

He took her hand a squeezed it. "I know."

Carmen had kept her ear to the ground and had texted him as soon as she'd heard rumblings that the jury already had a verdict and he'd likely be receiving a call to appear the next day.

Smart, efficient, fiercely loyal and protective Carmen. Always looking out for him. He would miss her.

The news had also made it to Olivia, which had prompted her unexpected and unwelcome panic attack that had found her hiding in the bathroom, retching and hyperventilating.

He'd just come from his mother's apartment, where he'd been fed and reassured in equal measure. She hadn't been in court for most of the day, though not of her own choice. He'd reasoned with her not to take the time off of work, saying that it would be better for her if she had something to distract her. He'd pleaded with her to stay away during his testimony, saying that he needed to focus and having her there would make it difficult. And he'd insisted that she be absent when the verdict came down, saying it was to protect her from any press response that would immediately follow no matter the results.

But she'd arrived after school just in time for the closing statements, sitting beside Olivia, stoic but supportive. And she'd demanded that he come home with her and let her make him all his favourite foods. Needing to help in a tangible way, beyond just the hope she spoke over him like unceasing prayer.

He couldn't tell if the hope was genuine or put on for his benefit. He didn't care. He loved her for trying.

But when the message had come from Carmen just before 7 p.m., any hope that managed to work its way into his own mind and heart was immediately replaced by dread, and he was compelled to seek the solitude of his own home. His mother had relented, but only because he had assured her that no matter what happened the next day, they would still have the time they needed to say what needed to be said.

That assurance was thanks to Jack McCoy, who just after the indictment had called him into his office to reveal that he'd spoken with the judge on his behalf, and that as a professional courtesy and because he was obviously not a danger to himself or others, should he be found guilty Barba would not be remanded until his sentencing hearing, instead placed under electronic monitoring so he would have some time to get his affairs in order.

This extra breathing room was a gift. Things had happened so very quickly, but rather than having to use the last few evenings to plan for an uncertain future, he could allow himself to focus on his defense. And the day before the trial had started he'd picked up Noah from his after school program and they had laughed and played and made messes and had fun. When she'd returned from work he'd taken Olivia to a fancy restaurant, and had intended on enjoying her company just as long as he could stay awake, determined to make every moment count. Then Dworkin had tracked him down and while they did end up back at Olivia's, his lawyer had come along and they had prepped late into the night.

He'd still managed to find the time (with a lot of help from Carmen, at her insistence) even before the indictment to get some things in the works, wanting to be ready to pull the trigger if it went sour, to make sure he would have time for proper goodbyes. His bank was poised to cash out some of his investments to be put in a trust for Astonja, taking the place of his regular contributions. He'd found a storage company that seemed reputable and had sent out some quote requests to packers and movers to deal with the contents of his apartment. He'd also had Carmen speak with an estate liquidator, in case his sentence was more than a few years and it would make more sense just to sell off all his furniture rather than let it gather dust and become outdated. He was considering renting his place to cover mortgage payments while he was inside, but of course it was covering the mortgage when he was OUT and likely unemployable in any position that would allow him to be able to handle such payments that was an issue. So Carmen was tasked with getting a real estate agent engaged should he decide to sell outright.

In any case, Barba was glad beyond measure that no matter what the jury had to say the next day, this wouldn't be his last opportunity to put Noah to bed. Yet he was still feeling a sense of dread, of doom, lurking over him. So he gave in with no contest to Noah's request that rather than a story Barba lay down with him and hold him until he fell asleep.

But Barba was emotionally and physically exhausted. So it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did when he woke up several hours later.

Removing himself from the boy's arms, Barba snuck out of the room to find a kitchen chair had been pulled into the hallway where he was sure to see it. On the chair was a towel and face cloth under a pile of his sleep clothes that Olivia had collected over the last year, with a new toothbrush sitting on top like a cherry on a sundae. The message was clear: "Stay". And in that moment he could think of no reason not to.

So after a quick shower Barba was climbing into Olivia's bed. And following a few minutes of silent consideration, he slipped an arm under her head and spooned against her back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered close to her ear when her hand came to rest over his against her stomach, fingers squeezing. Sorry he had woken her. Sorry he had caused her so much worry and pain. Sorry that he was being selfish in seeking comfort. And sorry for the tears that were slipping from his eyes despite his efforts to hold himself together.

Olivia turned over to face him and kissed his tears away even as a few of her own fell anew. Their limbs tangled and they held each other so tightly that at first it was hard to breathe. But it was already hard to breathe, and they both knew it would be that way until they heard what they jury had decided.

Bringing themselves under control, Barba rolled onto his back and Olivia tucked herself into his side, her head on his shoulder. They didn't speak, even though there was so much to be said. Too much. So much that the enormity of where to start and where to end was itself what rendered them silent. And they didn't sleep, not for a long time. Kept awake not by their thoughts or worries, but by not wanting to waste this time together, knowing they may not have much time left. Focusing on the skin and the warmth and the scent of the other. Her hand slipping under his t-shirt to settle over his heart, chaste but intimate.

 **February 7, 2018**

Eventually their weariness overtook them. And they might have slept longer than they should if Noah hadn't bounded in and, delighted to see Barba there, crawled over them and inserted himself in between them. When Liv checked her phone and announced that they didn't need to be in court until 10, Noah declared that this would be the best morning ever because they would BOTH be able to take him to school. Apparently he'd recovered from the trauma of the night before.

After putting on yesterday's clothes, Barba helped Noah dress and made a simple breakfast while Olivia got ready. And when they all sat down to eat he saw that Olivia's eyes were bright with unshed tears and he had to fight to stay in the now, to be present with Noah rather than give in to the mounting emotion.

They walked Noah to school, each holding one of his hands as he skipped and sang and argued playfully with Barba about who could build the taller tower out of Lego.

And when they arrived Barba knelt to retie one of Noah's shoes and found himself on the receiving end of a tight hug and a sloppy kiss and a "Love you!" and a "See you tonight!" and as he watched the boy run into his classroom it was only Olivia's strong grasp of his arm as he rose to his feet that kept him from completely falling apart.

"Don't catastrophize, Counselor," she said in a low voice. "At least not yet."

"Says the woman who panicked til she puked barely 12 hours ago."

"Touché."

Olivia had to go to the precinct to deal with something before court, and Barba needed to run home to shave and put on a fresh suit. But they lingered on the sidewalk, knowing it was likely the last private moment they would have together before the verdict.

"Rafa -" she began just as he said, "Liv, I-"

They smiled, and he motioned toward her to go first.

"I just wanted to say... I just wanted you to know that your friendship has been-" And then she had to stop as her voice caught.

"Didn't you JUST say we shouldn't catastrophize? Because this feels like you're ramping up for the big 'goodbye'."

"You're right. I'm sorry." She swiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. "So what were YOU going to say?"

And when he gave her his usual half-smile, she knew that he had been going to do the same thing.

"Right. Brave faces, then," she said resolutely as she flagged down a cab.

"The bravest."

But the look she gave him through the window of her cab after he shut the door behind her was all fear. And a part of him knew it was the fear that no matter what happened in court that day, things were going to change.


	21. Next - Part 1

**Setting:** Takes place immediately after 19x13 ("The Undiscovered Country"). Part two of this chapter will follow when I find the time, but I didn't want to wait any longer to post this. I hope it brings someone happiness today!

* * *

Lucy's hug was warm and welcome as she greeted him at the door.

"I guess Liv told you the news?"

"Google alert," she admitted sheepishly as she moved aside to let Barba enter Olivia's apartment. "Are you okay?"

"Well, I'm not going to prison. So I feel like I shouldn't complain."

"But...?" Lucy prompted as she led him to the kitchen.

"But I resigned from my job today."

"Oh." A pause. "I wondered if you might have to."

"It was my decision," he clarified as he washed his hands, planning to take over dinner preparations. "My boss wanted me to stay. But I felt like it was the right time for a change." An oversimplification, sure, but he knew she wasn't looking for the details.

"And how does LIV feel about that?"

"Well, she knows, but we haven't had a chance yet to actually talk about it."

"Ah. Okay. Well..." Lucy glanced at her watch. "She's gonna be home in, like, 10 minutes. So if you're good to watch Noah and monitor dinner, I think I'll head out."

He couldn't help but grin at her obvious desire to get the hell out of Dodge. "Where _is_ Noah?"

"Cleaning his room, theoretically. I told him not to come out until he was done." She started to gather up her things.

"You should stay and eat with us," he offered, teasing.

"Not a chance."

"Chicken."

"Hey, I'm not the one that needs to be afraid." She gave him another tight embrace. "For what it's worth, I'm really glad you're not going to prison."

"Thanks."

"I just hope Liv can keep her cool with you so SHE doesn't end up in prison," she said wryly as she pulled away. "Good luck!"

After a quick hello to Noah and encouragement to continue his cleaning efforts, Barba returned to the kitchen. Salad completed, he'd just added some extra garlic to the sauce and turned it on low to simmer when he heard the door. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a steadying breath, then went to face the music.

Her first words came out as an accusation. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"It's spaghetti night," he reminded her evenly. "Where else would I be?"

"Oh, I don't know. Somewhere moving on?"

He knew he probably deserved that cutting sass, but he couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Well, I'm not planning to move on from YOU, dummy. I thought that went without saying."

"Oh, you mean that was supposed to be implicit in your little drama queen walk-away?"

"Pardon me for needing to escape before having a complete emotional meltdown in the middle of the street."

"Are you fighting?" Noah had ventured out of his room and was listening intently. He seemed curious but not particularly concerned.

"Yes," Olivia said, not quite kidding.

"No," Barba corrected. Then he wrapped Olivia in his arms and addressed the boy from over her shoulder. "Hey kid, why don't you go make a new mess in that room you just cleaned while your mother and I DON'T fight. You can pick out a movie for after dinner if you do."

"Deal!" And off he went, apparently confident that whatever was going on with the grownups they'd manage to work out for themselves, and already trying to decide between 'Rookie of the Year' and 'Everyone's Hero'.

Olivia was tense but didn't move away, her hands coming to rest lightly on Barba's hips.

"Hey," he said quietly, nudging near her ear with his nose. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ambushed you like that this afternoon."

"No, you shouldn't have," she agreed rather bitterly even as she surrendered to his embrace for a long moment. "But we'll talk about that later, after Noah's in bed."

"Of course." He released her, gave her a half smile. "We'll talk about all of it."

Forcing herself to switch gears for Noah's sake, Liv insisted that she finish up dinner and sent him to Noah's room.

He found the boy hitting imaginary baseballs with his plastic bat. "Looking good, slugger. If the weather's reasonable this weekend maybe we can hit the park and do some batting practice for real. Sound good?" He took Noah's high pitched squeal as a "yes". "Almost time to eat. Shall we go wash our hands?"

In the bathroom, side by side in front of the sink with Noah on a step stool, their eyes locked in the mirror and Noah asked, "Why were you fighting?"

He gave the boy a reassuring smile. "We really weren't, I promise. Your mom is just upset because she and I won't be working together anymore."

"Aren't _you_ upset?"

"Well...". He took a few moments to really take stock, pumping more soap onto both of their hands. "I'm going to miss working with your mom, for sure. But...other than that, I don't think I'm upset, no."

In fact, he felt light, free, for the first time in a long time. And now that he realized it, he could barely believe it.

"That's good." Noah affirmed, unaware of the epiphany taking place next to him. "So does that mean you and my mom are getting married?"

Barba couldn't help but cough out a laugh. "I beg your pardon?"

"My mom said you couldn't get married because you work together. So if you're not working together anymore, you can get married now. Right?"

He was speechless, and that didn't happen very often. He turned off the water and handed Noah a towel, noticing how happy the boy seemed by the prospect. "Well..."

"Dinner's ready!" Olivia called from the kitchen. "Come set the table, please!"

"Saved by the bell, kid. We can talk about this later."

Noah forgot, but Barba didn't, and brought it up to Olivia as soon as they had a minute alone.

"Oh, dear Lord," she chuckled, seemingly unfazed. "It's beyond me how he can remember a conversation from months ago but never where he puts his shoes!"

"And what conversation was that, exactly?"

"The mother of a little boy in his playgroup was getting remarried, so Noah had a lot of questions about marriage and weddings and stepdads. And since you're the only man he ever sees me with, he made a bit of a leap." She closed the dishwasher and watched him as he finished wiping the counter.

"And you used us working together as the reason we couldn't get married?"

"Well, hasn't that always been our convenient excuse?" she teased.

"You're right." Barba was just glad the the dark cloud that had been hovering over the dinner table seemed to finally be lifting. "We'll have to think of a different one now, I guess."

Liv just shrugged. "Or not."

The surprised look on Barba's face before he could catch himself was priceless.

"Relax, Rafa," she said with a laugh, gesturing for him to follow her to the living room where Noah was waiting. "For the record, I don't date coworkers OR unemployed people."

"A guy just can't win with you, can he?"

Though to be honest, as he pulled Noah onto his lap when the promised movie began and Olivia's feet - in his colourful socks - settled against his where they were propped up on the coffee table, he felt like he'd already won.


	22. Next - Part 2

**Setting:** This is part two of the chapter "Next" of this story, picking up about 45 minutes from where it left off. "Next" begins just after episode 19x13 ("The Undiscovered Country").

The movie suddenly paused, and Olivia glanced over at Barba to find him with the remote in his hand and a sleeping child on his lap.

"Should I just carry him to bed like this, or do we need to wake him up to pee?"

It occurred to Olivia that it had been awhile since Barba had asked advice or permission for smaller "parenting" decisions like this - which was his way of 'taking liberties', she supposed - and that realization warmed her. This wasn't regression, though, and she was just as pleased to hear him asking smart questions to address potential issues that a year ago he wouldn't even have had on his radar. "How long has he been out?"

"He just dropped off."

Olivia leaned over and alternated light kisses and raspberries onto Noah's neck, cheeks and forehead. "Wake up, baby boy. You need to go get ready for bed."

Noah stirred, groggy but giggling and pushing her away. "Is the movie over?"

"Nope, but you can watch the rest tomorrow," she assured him.

"With Rafa?"

"Of course," Barba answered before Olivia could even spare him a look. "I've got to find out how it ends, after all. Now go get ready for bed and we'll come tuck you in in a few minutes." Taking liberties again. She loved it. She always loved it.

Rubbing his eyes, Noah slid from the couch and left to do as he was told without objection.

"I'm going to make coffee." Barba stood, stretched, his knees popping. "He's heavier, isn't he? Which is not surprising considering how much pasta he packed away at dinner."

She followed him to the kitchen. "Yeah, he's going through a bit of a growth spurt. I may have to take a second job just to afford to feed him." They exchanged a grin, but then Olivia's expression grew thoughtful. "You seem... different."

"Honestly? I feel different. When Jack accepted my resignation, I swear I could feel my blood pressure dropping. I think I needed this more than I realized."

Barba hadn't meant to hurt her through his admission, not in the least, and she knew that. But she felt hurt nonetheless.

She also felt anger, mostly at herself for being so shocked by it all. She'd certainly caught glimpses of it before, seen the proof that they were built differently. She should have known, should have suspected.

Every time justice was less than sweet, it motivated her, spurred her on to continue. For Barba, it was a hit. It drained him.

And while she'd refused to let herself dwell on it, especially in the last few months there had been times when she'd caught herself wondering if he was staying mostly because of her. Or FOR her.

So now he had a reasonable excuse to leave, and she couldn't begrudge him the choice to take advantage of it.

Okay. Maybe she could.

"Well, I'll have you know I think my blood pressure has gone through the roof." She tried to keep it light, but she could tell by the way his expression changed that he saw right through her. "You weren't just a coworker. You were my _partner._ We had each other's backs. I don't even know what it's like to do this without you."

"Now who's being a drama queen," he accused fondly. "You've been with SVU since the dawn of time, long before I showed up."

"But not in charge."

"No, not in charge. But Liv -"

"Ready!" Noah called. A timely interruption.

They started his bedtime routine together, but part way through Olivia excused herself to take a call from Fin. Later Barba found her reclined on her bed atop the covers, just signing off.

"Do you need to go in?" he asked. "I can stay with Noah."

"I'm hoping they have it covered; if they need me I'll know within the hour."

Barba climbed onto the bed beside her, lying on his stomach with his head on a pillow and turned to face her. "I'll wait."

"Thanks." She settled back further, staring at the ceiling, and found herself reflecting on the fact that just the night before they'd fallen asleep together here, facing an uncertain future.

A future still uncertain, though in a way very different than she has imagined.

"So," she said finally. "What's next for you?"

"Well, in the short term, there's lots to wrap up and hand off. I've already started packing up my office but it will be at least a week before I'm actually out of there. I just won't be taking on any anything new or appearing in court. I have a meeting tomorrow at 10 to get Stone up to speed on the Markus West case."

"Stone?"

"Yeah. Jack asked him to stay on through the transition. I'm just guessing, but I imagine he's going to try to convince him to take over for me."

"Oh, dear God," she groaned.

"What? He's a good lawyer and seems nice enough."

"Rather magnanimous from the person who he tried to put in prison."

"I'm a classy guy that way," he said with a smirk. "The point is that if _I_ can recognise that he was just doing his job, _you_ should be able to."

"Fair enough, but that's not the issue. Let's just say I didn't exactly roll out the red carpet this past week."

That piqued his interest. He propped himself up on his elbow and said in a teasing voice, "Olivia Benson, did you defend my honour?"

"Shut up."

"You did! I'm touched." He chuckled at her eye-roll. "Anyway, I'm sure he'll understand. Water under the bridge. "

"We'll see." She sighed. "Regardless..."

"What?"

"Listen. You're my best friend and I love you and I want you to be happy. But you're also the best ADA I've ever worked with... and it took me forever to break you in! I'm not as young as I once was. I don't know if I have the energy to do it all over again."

"Ouch." Barba brought a hand to his heart in jest. "Well, I'm sorry I was such a chore. But maybe it will do you good to have someone to make you work for it again."

"You're saying _you_ didn't?"

His voice grew more sincere, his eyes softening. "Not in the end. Not in the way I used to. Obviously you broke me in a little too well."

A tender look, followed by a long silence.

"I hate how much I'm going to miss you," Olivia admitted, her eyes turning back to the ceiling.

"People can have friends outside of work, you know. I mean, I don't know from experience. But I've heard that's a thing."

"What makes you think I'm even talking about that? Maybe I'll just miss the easy warrants."

He huffed incredulously. "Hey, I get it. Really good work friends are hard to come by. But don't fret - I've secretly been breaking YOU in too all these years as a part of my succession plan. If I've done my job, you and whoever comes after me will be thick as thieves in no time."

"Jeez, Rafa. Does the thought of that not make you even a LITTLE bit sad?"

And despite her great efforts to keep things light, to hide the depth of her feelings by meeting his verbal sparring blow for blow - his own defence mechanism, she suspected - her voice wavered.

"No, no, no. Don't you dare start, Benson. I've cried enough over the end of our working relationship today, and the last thing we need is a repeat of last night. Keep it together, you big sap."

While his words were harsh, his tone was full of affection. And of course that only made it worse.

"You need to stop talking or I am going to lose it," she scolded with a watery laugh. "Not all of us had the luxury of a midday cry-fest, you know. I had to go back to WORK after your perfect little 'I see colours now because of you' speech." Her phone sounded an incoming text which she glanced at before making a frustrated noise. "And I may have to go to work again."

"Okay, the way I see it we have two options," Barba offered reasonably, ignoring the tears forming in his own eyes. "Option 1 is we allow ourselves to just WALLOW in emotion. Be as pitiful and pathetic as we need to be. And if you DO get called into work you just go with it and _own_ what a hot mess you're bound to be."

"Sounds good to me. And option 2?"

"Option 2 is that we get out of this bed, pour ourselves some of the coffee waiting in the kitchen, have nonemotional conversation, and trust that we don't have to see each other at work every day to have a fulfilling, supportive, successful friendship, which I happen to know is what's REALLY bothering you. We can commit to each other right now to make that happen. Because that's what best friends do."

Of course it was that sentiment so sweetly expressed that made her fall apart.

"Option 1 it is," he quipped with a sigh as she rolled toward him and buried her face in his chest.

She ignored two texts but when her phone rang she cursed - really, properly cursed using a word Barba hadn't heard from her before and that would have delighted him if he wasn't so damn emotional himself just then - and while she let it go to voicemail, knowing there was no way she could mask her current state in her voice, she did read the waiting messages.

She sat up, swiping at her eyes and sniffing pitifully. "I have to go."

"Okay."

She glanced at the mirror over the dresser near the bed. "Dear Lord, I'm a wreck."

"Yup. You are." His smirk was back. "'Own it', remember?"

"Sometimes I really hate you."

"Good. You can harness that hatred to help pull yourself together." He propelled himself off the bed and offered her a hand up, avoiding looking at the mirror himself knowing that he hadn't fared much better in their little meltdown.

Olivia went to the closet to replace the now rumpled clothes she was still wearing from work that day. "Fin's coming to pick me up in 20 minutes."

"Think you'll be out long?"

"Could be most of the night."

"No worries. I'll hold down the fort."

He left her to get ready and, after a quick stop in Noah's bathroom to wash his face, headed to the kitchen. He prepared her travel mug of coffee and packed her some snacks to help her get through the next few hours. He was just finishing up when she joined him, her eyes still red but makeup covering most of the tell-tail signs.

"You know if you have trouble finding work I can always give you room and board and you can be my live-in babysitter and housekeeper."

"Like a Tony Danza 'Who's the Boss' kind of arrangement?"

"Yes, except there'd be no question about who the boss is."

"Well, it's good to know I have a safety net. But thankfully it's a big city so I don't anticipate having TOO much trouble finding something. I know that there's going to be places where being the 'baby killer' will mean they won't touch me, but there's also probably some opportunities where that will make me a more attractive prospect."

Olivia could tell that while he glossed over the 'baby killer' label he wasn't as comfortable with it as his words may have let on. "We haven't talked about it much. I'm sorry; I should have brought it up but I didn't want to press you and I figured you'd come to me when you were ready. How are you doing with... all that?"

He leaned heavily against the counter, facing her. "It changes moment to moment. Don't get me wrong: I still believe that I did the right thing. I didn't need a jury to tell me that. But I still ended a life, such as it was. And I know I'm going to need to work through that at some point so I can really put it behind me."

She gave him a sympathetic smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Well, I'm here if you ever need someone to work through it with you."

"Thanks. And someday soon I will probably take you up on that." There was a knock at the door. "But not today."

"That must be Fin. Can you let him in? I need to go grab my gun out of the safe."

If Fin was surprised to see him there, he was too much of a pro to let on. "Hey, Counselor," he greeted evenly.

"Detective."

"You back on the clock? We're going to be looking to get a warrant first thing."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. You or Liv can email me the details and I'll do what I can." It wasn't the time to disclose that this could well be the last warrant he obtained for this team. He wondered if Liv would get emotional about that when it came up. Actually, he was sure she would.

"Thanks, Barba. And I'm assuming you know that it goes without saying we're all real glad about how things worked out for you today. Wouldn't be the same for us without you."

Barba was glad he had already had a bit of a cry, but he still had to remain silent as he shook Fin's offered hand to keep his voice from revealing anything.

"Hey, Fin. I just need a second." Barba was able to make a quick escape while Olivia was zipping up her boots and shrugging on her coat. He rejoined her in the hallway and handed her the travel mug and the brown bag containing the food he had prepared, which she tucked into her purse. "If I'm not back -"

"I'll take Noah to school. Not a problem."

"Okay, then. I'm ready to go."

"Later, Counselor," Fin said casually as he led the way out the door. His back was to them when Olivia placed a hand on Barba's chest, pausing to draw out the meaningful look and gesture, before she followed. But he didn't need to see it to sense that something was going on.

He already suspected both had recently been crying from the looks of them. He didn't say anything, of course. It was none of his business, and Olivia trusted him to keep out of things that didn't concern him unless he was truly worried about her safety, her well being, her happiness. And whatever was going on here didn't worry him, so he kept his mouth shut.

If he _had_ been inclined to weigh in, Olivia would have been surprised to find that what Fin had considered most interesting and perhaps telling was not that Barba was there, not that he had been conscripted into overnight child care, and not even that they had apparently had an emotional exchange. No, it was how she hadn't thanked Barba for the food and coffee that had really caught his attention, an oversight that smacked of intimacy in his estimation.

Had he been in her office when they returned to the precinct and she'd decided to grab a snack before heading into interrogation, his previous interest would have paled in comparison.

But Olivia was thankfully alone when she opened the bag of food Barba had prepared, when the only reason she hadn't called him to rip him a new one for getting her worked up again was because she didn't want to wake him. It had taken several minutes and several steadying breaths to be able to effectively blink away the threatening tears and re-form from the puddle of mushy feelings she'd been reduced to. And all by 5 little words taped to a ziplock bag of cherry tomatoes:

"Got your back partner. Always. xo"

She retaliated not long after with 5 little words of her own, provided the chance when she arrived home early that morning when he was in the shower. By the time he emerged, finding her passed out in the bed he'd spent the last two nights in, the deed was done: A note taped around the chapstick in his coat pocket, which he discovered, as she'd hoped, during a marathon meeting with Stone in the dry air of his soon-to-be former office. Though instead of making him cry it caused him to bark out an embarrassingly loud laugh which he didn't even try to explain. The note was then tucked into his wallet and kept there for years to come, something he would pull out whenever he was feeling sentimental or needed to be reminded not of the words themselves, which were ridiculous, but what he knew was behind them:

"You're hotter than Tony Danza. xo"


	23. Deniability

**SETTING:** During and after 19x14 ("Chasing Demons"), when Olivia was hiding Cassidy in her apartment.

\- - -

"Question."

Barba smiled into the phone. In the delivery of that one word, he could tell that Liv was in "efficient-work-mode", which was something he had already found himself missing. "Shoot."

"The six weeks of vacation time you were owed: Did they give it to you as a lump sum payout?"

Oh. That was unexpected. He'd been hoping she was calling for advice on a case. He was going a bit stir crazy at home. "Why? Do you need a loan?"

"No, nothing like that. So, did they? Or are they dolling it out by pay period?"

"Are you asking if I'm still on the payroll? Because if you are, the answer is 'yes'. They thought it would be easier in case they needed to call me in on anything through the transition. Better for tax purposes too."

"Okay. In that case, I'm going to ask you a favour, but I need you to NOT ask me why."

Ah. Barba finally caught up. "Is this a plausible deniability thing?"

"It is."

"Liv, I'm not going to _tell_ on you. And frankly I'm a little hurt that you couldn't trust me."

"I do trust you, don't be ridiculous. I just don't want you to be put in a position where you might have to lie for me."

He huffed incredulously. "What are they going to do, _fire_ me? I'm already half-way out the door!"

"Please, Rafa. I'll tell you the whole sordid tale as soon as I can, I promise."

He paused, considering. "Is whatever this is going to put you in danger?"

"Only maybe my career." He could tell she wasn't quite kidding. "But not physically, no. It's nothing like that. Honestly."

"Olivia..."

"Don't _you_ trust _me_?"

A heavy sigh. "Okay, what's the favour?"

"I need you to let Lucy bring Noah over to your place after school, and then I need you to keep him overnight and take him to school in the morning."

"Keep him at my place."

"Yes."

"Which means that you have something going on at your place."

"Rafa!"

He relented, sensing from her tone that her frustration was mounting and he wasn't going to get much further. "Yes, of course I will. That's not a problem. My mother is coming over for dinner tonight, and she's been asking to meet Noah, so that'll work fine. I won't be home until at least 5:00, though."

"Lucy can entertain him until then."

"Okay. I'll text her with directions."

"And you're sure you don't mind?"

"Why would I mind? What I _do_ mind is you keeping whatever's going on from me."

That got to her. "I know. I'm sorry. But it's for the best."

"I think you just don't want me to talk you out of it, and you're using plausible deniability as an excuse."

"You may be right. But it's not going to change anything."

After stopping by the precinct to pick up the overnight bag that Olivia had prepared before leaving for work, Lucy and Noah arrived at around 5:15, and Barba greeted them each with a warm hug before giving a quick tour of the amenities.

Noah was thrilled to see his artwork from all those months ago on Barba's fridge, and Lucy put him to work making more so that she could help with dinner preparations. Barba insisted that she stay to eat, but it really didn't take that much convincing. She was interested to meet Lucia, whom Olivia had in the past described as formidable. Plus, she was scheduled to be "on duty" for awhile longer and she wanted to make sure that Noah didn't break or ruin any of Barba's expensive stuff until she was no longer technically responsible for him.

In the end, Lucy was more than glad she stayed. Supper went off without a hitch, with Noah being particularly charming and Lucia obviously smitten. And seeing Barba interact with his mother was at times heartwarming and at times hilarious. The woman was indeed formidable, but also fun and very funny.

It was nearing 7:30 when Lucy suggested it was time for her to leave, but Lucia stopped her. "If you don't have other plans, we'd love for you to stay. We have a game we really like but it needs at least three players so we haven't had a chance to enjoy it since my mother died. You're a sharp young thing - I think you'd give us a run for our money."

Lucy was flattered by the invitation but looked at Barba for guidance. He just gave her a smile that confirmed she was more than welcome.

"Sure, I'd love to! But why don't I put Noah to bed first?"

Noah started to protest but Barba put his hand lightly over the boy's mouth, first making him mumble and then making him laugh. "I've got that," Barba told her. "You two can set up the game and my mother can run you through the rules - Yuck! Did you just lick me?"

More giggles out of Noah, who followed instructions to hug Lucy and then, a little shyly, Lucia, who squeezed him and said, "Good night, sweet boy. I hope I will see you again soon." Beaming, Noah took Barba's hand and headed to get ready.

Lucia held her curiosity for as long as she could, but once the game was set up she said to Lucy, "My dear, I hope you don't mind but I can't quite help the instinct to eavesdrop on my son putting a child to bed. It's something I never thought I'd have a chance to witness, frankly."

"He's a natural," Lucy told her with a grin. "I've been guilty of eavesdropping a few times myself." Which was true in the beginning when she'd wanted to make sure Barba wasn't in over his head.

In the end Lucy joined Lucia on the floor just outside the open door of Barba's bedroom and listened.

"Okay, little man. Your mom only packed one story, so I guess that's it."

"Don't _you_ have any books?"

"I have a ton of books, actually. But they're all super duper boring, I promise."

A thoughtful pause. "Maybe you can get some not-boring books. For next time."

"That, my young friend, is an excellent idea. Now let's have a cuddle and you can tell me about your day."

This was an occasional part of his bedtime routine that Olivia had instituted but that Barba had really taken to, giving Noah a chance to debrief things that he had learned or that had bothered him or that he was proud about.

Barba loved to talk, and Noah loved to snuggle, and for both this bedtime event was some of their favourite times together.

"I sat with Michael today at lunch."

"Michael that you told me about the other night?"

"Uh-huh. You were right - He's not weird like everyone says. He just doesn't talk too much. And that's okay."

"Yes, it is okay. And maybe you can help the other kids in your class to realize that."

A pause. "Uncle Rafa? He didn't have a very good lunch."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, it wasn't very big. And it didn't have anything healthy in it. Which is kinda lucky, I guess. But if that was my lunch I would still be hungry."

This. This is what Barba loved the most. These teaching moments. "And it's tough to learn in school when you're hungry, isn't it?" Noah nodded. "So how do you think we should help Michael?"

"Um... Maybe we can pack extra in my lunch so I can share with him?"

"We most certainly can." He gave the boy a squeeze. "I'm very proud of you, Noah."

Noah beamed up at him as though Barba being proud was the best gift he could receive.

"Alright, little man. You need to get up early tomorrow because school is further away, so it's time to sleep now."

"Okay." Noah left Barba's lap and got under the covers. "Do you think your mom likes me?"

"Yes, I think she likes you very much."

"I like her. She's nice."

"That she is." Barba switched off the bedside lamp. "Remember we're roommates tonight, so I'll be in in awhile. Give me a kiss. Te quiero."

"Love you too."

While Lucy had snuck back to the kitchen as things were wrapping up, Lucia hadn't bothered. She met him in the doorway with a satisfied grin on her face. Annoyed, he took her by the arm and ushered her away from the bedroom.

"Mother, don't start," he warned as soon as they were out of earshot.

"That boy adores you."

"He really does," Lucy offered helpfully from her spot at the table.

"Stay out of this, you."

"Is Olivia seeing anyone?"

"Mother!"

"She really isn't," Lucy interjected again.

"See if you get another invitation," he grumbled.

Lucy lifted her hands in surrender. "I'm totally for it, that's all I'll say."

"Oh, my God. Are we playing this game or not?"

"Lighten up, Raf," Lucia chided him before adding for Lucy's benefit: "He never did handle teasing well."

"I need a Scotch."

"Why don't you bring us some wine, mijo? Us girls are going to need it if you're going to be a grump."

They let him off the hook and the rest of their time was bearable. Fun, actually. And the fact that when Lucy left she didn't bother to remind him that she was available if anything happened with Noah in the night or to offer him any advice warmed him; apparently she trusted him to handle things on his own.

He was putting the game away and thinking about getting ready to bed when his phone sounded with a text from Olivia. "You awake?"

Rather than responding in kind, he called her. "Hey, you."

"Hey. How was your night?"

"My mother and Lucy together are insufferable."

"Lucy met your mother?"

"Yeah. They both just left. We played games after dinner."

"So why were they insufferable?"

"They were ganging up on me all night, in the games and otherwise."

"Poor baby."

"It was nice, though, to see them getting along. My mom really took to her. And to Noah, by the way. They got along famously."

"Noah get to bed at a decent hour? "

"Yep, no trouble."

"Sounds like a successful night."

"It was. How about yours? Anything you're ready to tell me? Are you okay?"

"No, and yes."

It was hard for Barba to leave it at that, but he managed to just say, "Okay. I trust you."

"I know. Thank you."

They spoke for a few more minutes and then bid each other good night.

The next day Noah and Barba packed a special big lunch together, and they purposely arrived at the school early so Barba could speak to Noah's teacher about Michael's situation. That sorted, he went on about his day.

A few days later, Olivia dropped Noah off at school and was pulled aside by his teacher. "Can you please let Mr. Barba know that Michael has been set up for the school lunch program for the rest of the year, and that his mother is very grateful? We kept the gift anonymous as he asked, but she wanted to make sure that the donor was told what a difference it will make."

"Um, yeah, of course. I'll let him know." And she was so stunned and warmed that she texted Fin that she was going to be late and took a cab to Barba's place instead.

Barba, however, didn't give her a chance to talk to him about that, not right away. He wanted to hear about what was going on with her, and wasn't taking no for an answer.

So she told him. It didn't go well.

"CASSIDY?"

"Calm down, Rafa."

"But CASSIDY?"

"What was I supposed to do? Turn him in without giving him the benefit of the doubt?"

"YES! Yes, that is exactly what you were supposed to do!"

Olivia did her best to explain, to defend her choice, her willingness to risk her career for an ex. It wasn't her best work, and he was in fine form in his cross examination, but in the end she felt like he understood even if he didn't agree. If not from his former role as an ADA, then at least as her friend.

But it was his final question that caught her completely off-guard: "Did you sleep with him?"

"I can't believe you just asked me that! Of course I didn't sleep with him! Oh, my God. I can't even tell you how OVER that is. And how over it is going to stay."

"Well... good."

"Good," she repeated. And then, his pause giving her an opening to change the subject and hopefully the mood in the room, she said, "Rafa, did you pay for lunches for one of the kids in Noah's class?"

He groaned, embarrassed. "How on earth did you hear about that?"

"His teacher asked me to pass on the mother's gratitude. She assumed I knew."

"Noah was worried about him. I wanted to help."

"You are something else, you know that?"

"It was 300 bucks. Not a big deal."

"It was a big deal for Michael and his family. And it's obviously a big deal to my son." Then she hugged him, hard. "And it's a big deal to me."

"No one was supposed to know," he mumbled into her shoulder. "It was meant to be anonymous."

"Don't worry, Rafa. I won't tell on you," she teased, purposely using his own words from the other day. With a final squeeze she stepped away and picked up her purse, heading toward the door. "Heaven forbid someone get an inkling you're not the tough, hardened law man everyone thinks you are." Smirking, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm just glad you lost your plausible deniability with me a long time ago. Because I'm rather partial to the real you, even if he yells at me for making questionable choices sometimes."

He rolled his eyes. She laughed and went to work.


	24. Plans

Barba had just finished putting Noah to bed and flopped onto the couch, his head in Olivia's lap looking up at her while she responded to emails on her phone. "We should go dancing," he announced.

"Dancing, huh?" she parroted distractedly, still typing. "What kind of dancing?"

"Well, my repertoire is rather limited, but I'm Cuban. I've got hips for daaaays."

That got her attention. "Are you drunk?" she asked, feigning seriousness and with a critical eyebrow raised.

"No!" he insisted, laughing.

"Bored, then."

"I'm not sure 'bored' is the right word. Maybe feeling a bit restless?" This was mostly true. It had been a few weeks since he had given his notice, and while there were still a few things to wrap up his responsibilities were less and less. In the beginning he HAD been bored when he wasn't obsessing or worrying. And when he wasn't distracted and comforted by Noah's antics or Olivia's steady presence. But when he'd started to put out some feelers and had realized he had a lot of friends left and should be able to pick up some contract work pretty quickly once his self-imposed waiting period was over, possibilities for his future made him feel a rather unfamiliar desire to make the most of his unencumbered present.

She laid her phone on his chest, her hand remaining to cover it. "Getting tired of being a man of leisure, it would seem," she teased.

"Just itching to enjoy it," he clarified before jutting out his lip in an exaggerated pout. "But you're always working."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes at his ridiculous statement . "You know you can go out and have fun without me, right?"

"I have more fun _with_ you."

"Flatterer."

"Guilty. Is it working?" He felt the vibration of her phone signalling a new message, and paused to give her time to respond. It also gave him time to formulate a new tactic to engage her. "You've got some vacation days stored up, right?"

"Rafa." Her best stern voice accompanying her best stern look.

Neither of which phased him in the least. "Oh, come on. We'd have a great time!"

Olivia could have come up with a million excuses, many of them legitimate. But looking down at his earnest expression, seeing how free he looked and feeling the contrast with how weary she was, knowing she did indeed have a lot of vacation time in the bank, she was having trouble forcing her excuses from her mouth. Instead she found herself saying, "Maybe we can do a three day weekend."

"Five day weekend," he countered, not skipping a beat despite his shock that she'd folded so quickly.

"Five!" she repeated incredulously. "That's not a weekend - that's a whole week!"

"Four, then."

"Barba -"

"Nope. Four. Final offer."

"Ugh! Fine. You win. I'll talk to Fin tomorrow and see if I can clear my schedule. But since you're the unemployed one you have to plan it."

"I promise you won't have to think about a thing. I'll even pack your suitcases."

She huffed out a laugh. "Listen, Dapper Dan, I know in your "restless" state you think dressing me would be a fun way to pass the time, but you will stay out of my underwear drawer, capish?"

"Liv, who do you think puts your laundry away when Lucy leaves early?"

"We need to talk about boundaries."

"And you need to buy more pastels."

The next afternoon he stopped into the precinct, stopping to chat briefly with Fin before heading into Liv's office.

"We've got four days," she announced from behind her desk before he could ask. "Saturday to Tuesday."

"That's excellent! No problem convincing Fin, then?"

"Honestly, he doesn't have a lot of ambition to be in charge, even temporarily. But he's been a bit of a mother hen for the past 18 years, and he's always up for me taking vacation when I can squeeze it in."

"Speaking of mother hens...I had lunch with my mother today."

"That's nice. How's she doing?"

"Well. Really well. And I, uh..." He sat down in the seat across from her. "I mentioned to her that we were thinking of taking some time and she offered to take Noah."

"Oh, I thought - I figured it would be the three of us."

"Hey, so did I," he countered, holding up his hands. "That was certainly my intention. But my dear mother misunderstood. I corrected her, but she insisted I talk to you about it before shutting it down." And he looked at her expectantly, obviously waiting for her to do just that.

"Huh."

When that was all she said, he found himself compelled to fill the silence. "Yeah. I mean, they'd have a great time. They certainly get along well. And if Lucy could get him to and from school on the weekdays while my mom is working he could stay at her place, or she could stay at your place, whatever you preferred. Anyway, she was quite excited by the prospect."

"Huh," Olivia said again, her expression unreadable.

"Huh," Barba repeated. And then he waited.

"Well..." Olivia began finally. "I guess we didn't tell Noah yet, so it wouldn't be like we were disappointing him."

Barba tried not to give away his surprise that she was considering it. After the whole Sheila debacle he hadn't expected Olivia to ever consent to letting Noah out of her sight for that long.

"And if he wasn't with us, we could do things at night," she continued. "Like go dancing. Which if I remember correctly was what started all of this."

"Olivia Benson," he said with exaggerated wonder. "Are you about to agree to a kid-free vacation?"

She pursed her lips, obviously torn. But he could tell the moment she committed, saw the change in her posture, her eyes. "You know what? Yes. Yes I am. Noah will be fine with your mom, and we could both use a trip out of the city to clear our heads." Then she smiled. "Let's do it."

Barba sat back in his chair with a goofy grin. "We're going dancing," he singsonged.

Olivia sighed affectionately. Kid-free vacation indeed, except for the big kid sitting in front of her. "Yes, we are," she affirmed in a placating tone she often used on Noah. "Now go away so I can work."

He stood, gave her a jaunty salute, and left her to do just that. He had planning to do.


	25. Secret

After a long shower, Olivia found Barba sprawled on the large, L-shaped couch in the living room and focused on the television.

"Is this American Ninja Warrior? Doesn't seem like your usual fare."

"Keeps me humble," he told her dryly. "Plus, as you know I'm already caught up on Downton Abbey." He patted the space beside him. "Want to join me? I thought maybe we could watch a movie and veg."

"That's okay. It's really late. I should go to sleep."

"Olivia, you slept forever in the car. You can't possibly be tired."

He was right, of course. She was wide awake.

Their intention had been to leave Saturday morning, but as Barba had watched her mood and her energy deteriorate as the week progressed, he'd made a last minute executive decision and picked her up from work on Friday night, bags packed and in the trunk of the rental car, ready to go.

Olivia had protested of course, but following an afternoon of intense preparation Barba had come armed with answers and solutions to every excuse for delay.

Olivia's luggage had been mostly packed the night before, so that hadn't been an issue. He'd simply grabbed the makeup bag and the toiletries that had looked most important out of her bathroom and tossed them in. Anything he'd forgotten she could replace on the road.

Relieving Lucy, he'd delivered Noah and the boy's overnight belongings to Lucia's himself, and he'd offered to stay and help him get settled, even put him to bed. It had been Noah who had made it abundantly clear that his hovering wasn't necessary, hopping into Lucia's outstretched arms with a big grin and echoing in his own childlike way her assurance that they had everything under control.

Yet although all bases had been effectively covered, Olivia had been positively beastly when he'd arrived at the precinct and told her about the change of plan. Even after her concerns had been addressed, she'd lashed out that he was interrupting her, making plans without consulting her, daring to assume that he knew what was best for her.

But despite how riled up she was, despite her assertion that she had several good hours left in her and he was pulling her away from work that needed to be done, she was asleep within 15 minutes of them getting on the road and he'd had to wake her when they'd arrived.

While the over 3 hour drive was a bit lonely, he was pleased. His primary reason for leaving early was that he wanted her to have more time to rest and relax, so obviously he'd succeeded. Also that fact that she seemed to have slept away her crankiness didn't hurt.

"This place is really nice," she'd commented as he'd led her to her room. "Is this an Air BnB or something?"

"Timeshare. Not mine - a friend's." It was the same place he'd gone to escape after his suspension. "Don't poke around too much just yet. Wait until you get a proper tour in the daylight. You're going to love it." The real appeal was what surrounded them, but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. It had been dark, overcast and windy when they'd pulled up, and as she'd slept through the approach she had no context whatsoever to where they might be.

He scolded her now as she tried to peek out a window. "Really, wait 'til morning. You won't be disappointed." She obeyed and joined him on the couch, immediately tucking herself into his side.

Barba grinned and was enjoying the smell of her strawberry conditioner and was about to ask her what she wanted to watch when he was mugged, her hand slipping inside the front pocket of his hooded sweater to remove his phone. She then retreated out of his reach and tapped in his code from memory to unlock the screen.

He didn't scold this time, didn't even mention it. He let her do what she needed to do.

It had been her decision to leave her own phone at the office, locked in a desk drawer. She knew that she would never been able to get even CLOSE to disconnecting if her texts and emails were calling to her from her purse or pocket. So her autoresponders had all been set, and Lucy, Lucia and Fin all knew that she could be reached on Barba's phone. Knowing she could be reached in an emergency was the only way she could start to relax.

Not that she'd told Fin it was Barba's number. She'd simply texted him the digits and made him promise up and down that he wouldn't hesitate to use them if it was truly warranted. Little did she know that he'd decided to enter it into his cell's contacts, only to find out there was already an entry for that number. His feeling on the matter? Good for her. Good for them both.

The decision had been made on Wednesday, and she'd been resolute about it, telling Barba that when the time arrived he had to hold her to it. Of course, with her mood being what it was when he'd picked her up, he'd had to all but wrestle it from her, and there had been a bit of a shouting match involved. In the end, Barba hadn't really won - it was Wednesday-Olivia that had won, as Barba had parroted back all of the things she'd said that day.

Barba wished he could lock his own phone in a drawer, honestly. He hated that he often felt the need to have it in his hands, and a little detox would probably do him good. But having it in earshot now that he was officially her emergency contact was okay with him. Anything to help her get what she needed from this time away.

And apparently what she needed right now was to check on her son.

Not that she was going to contact Lucia this late at night. But she scrolled through the texts from that evening to see selfies of the woman and Noah seemingly having a splendid time, and then one of Noah sound asleep.

"You and your mom text in Spanish?"

"Mmhm," Barba hummed, his attention on the tv screen. "That surprise you?"

"Not 'surprise', I guess. I just so rarely hear you speak Spanish." She was quiet for awhile. Then, "I think it's cute that Carmen keeps checking in with you."

"As soon as I land somewhere I'm going to do my damndest to poach her and take her with me."

"Even if you end up flipping burgers?"

"Especially then."

Quiet again, for about a minute. "Who is 'Kellar'?" she asked.

"You know him. One of the research assistants at the DA's office."

"Oh, with the red hair?"

"That's the one."

"He texts you a lot."

"He likes to keep me updated on the cases I was involved in but had to hand off."

"Oh." Silence again. "I didn't realize people still played 'Candy Crush'."

"I have it on there for your son, actually."

"Sure you do. And I'm sure this ridiculous high score is his. " An even longer pause. "Why is your email password protected on your own phone?"

"So snoops like you don't discover my secret girlfriend," he deadpanned without missing a beat.

"I thought *I* was your secret girlfriend," she teased. But then, as if in a show of disagreement, a push notification came through for Barba's email. While she obviously couldn't open the message she saw the first few words: _"Hey, Barba. Can you tell Liv that..."_

She crawled back to him and put his phone in his hand. "Strike that. Apparently not so secret."

He tapped in his password and pointed the screen in her direction so she could read Fin's report.

 _"Hey, Barba. Can you tell Liv that we just brought in the guy that Carisi and Rollins had been tracking? Looks pretty open and shut - all under control. Just thought she might enjoy your vacation a little more knowing that was taken care of. Have fun, counselor."_

Olivia responded with a quick note of acknowledgement and thanks, and then intended to take advantage of the access to snoop some more when Barba took the phone back from her and logged out again.

"You don't _actually_ have a secret girlfriend, do you?" she accused lightly.

"You caught me. Her name is Myrtle. And she wants to know if you're into threesomes."

Olivia laughed and the matter was dropped as they decided against a movie and their attention settled on the next episode of American Ninja Warrior instead, using commercials to speculate on how on earth Fin had known they were together.

And Barba's secret, hidden in his inbox, would be safe for a few more days until he was ready to reveal it.


	26. Vacation

Barba awakened just after 7. Following a quick trip to the washroom he'd intended on going back to bed but felt compelled to first venture out to see if Olivia was still asleep. Her door was slightly ajar so he pushed it open to find her bed unmade but empty.

After a quick search he discovered her in his favourite spot, a sunroom of sorts on the north side of the house. Picture windows, sliding glass door, large skylights overhead, a view of the ocean, even a hammock in the corner. And at the right time of the year, which just happened to be this time of year, it was a perfect place to enjoy sunrises and sunsets. The former of which had Olivia Benson thoroughly enraptured.

Barba was frozen, trying to decide whether he should leave her be or join her. In the end the decision was made for him when she turned her head and smiled. He crossed to her, stood beside her, saying nothing.

The sun had already breached the horizon, the clouds orange and pink and purple. It was perfect. It was exactly what he'd wanted to her to see. And he felt so lucky to be able to share it with her. "Thank you," she breathed after some time had passed, a single tear tracking lazily down her cheek. Barba wasn't sure if she was thanking him or God or the universe or something else, but he silently added his own thanks to whoever wanted to accept it. Thanks for the beauty of the moment, and for what it was doing in Olivia's mind and heart.

Breakfast was a casual affair, neither bothering to shower or dress. He had unpacked a cooler into the kitchen on their arrival: Bread, bagels, butter and spreads, some cereal, a half carton of milk, and their preferred flavour pods that fit the coffee maker on site. There was also wine and scotch, but that would be for later, of course.

"So, what's on the schedule for today?" Olivia asked as she bit into a piece of toast.

"Tonight, we dance. The rest is up to you."

She was genuinely surprised. "I assumed you were going to have this thing planned to the minute."

"When I thought Noah was coming with us, that was my intention," he revealed. "But I figured _you_ would appreciate some blank space more than anything else."

"You know me so well," she told him sincerely, her smile full and relaxed and bright.

"Damn right I do." Though he still felt relieved that he'd gotten it right, so maybe he wasn't as confident as he let on.

After breakfast they took a call from Lucia and Noah, reporting a good sleep and plans made. The boy rattled on a mile a minute, a sure sign that he was happy and excited and above all comfortable. And it was his decision to say goodbye because he didn't want to wait any longer to begin their grand adventure for the day.

His excitement for adventure inspired the opposite in Olivia. "So can we really just do NOTHING?" she found herself musing aloud after she was satisfied her son was in good hands. As a lieutenant, as a single mother, this had understandably become an unknown luxury. At home there was always something she COULD be doing, or SHOULD be, but here, without even her phone or laptop, without a child to take care of and plan for, without the company of someone she had to be at her best for or entertain, she had literally no responsibilities, no coulds or shoulds.

"I'll do you one better, Liv. YOU can really just do nothing. Even if I'm doing something."

She apparently didn't have an answer for that, but she couldn't quite contain her delight at her unexpected freedom. She hugged him from behind, a tight squeeze. "Best. Vacation. Ever," she mumbled against his neck before releasing him and practically skipping away to find her first "nothing" to enjoy.

When she rejoined him just after noon, drawn to the kitchen by the smell of their lunch cooking, it was immediately obvious to Barba that she'd gone back to bed, a decision he fully affirmed.

"Where'd all this come from?"

"There's a little market about 10 minutes down the road. We should be set for the duration. Hungry?"

"Ummm... Very." She shuffled next to him, still rubbing her eyes as she peered down at his efforts. "Need any help?"

He never tired of seeing her in her natural state, and this level of bedhead was beyond his imagination. "You can set the table if you'd like. It's nearly ready."

She was about to comply when she had a thought. "Can we just eat in front of the TV?"

She'd been raised eating in the TV room and had gone the other way with Noah, as though meals at the table were a vital part of ensuring his childhood was better than hers. But the truth was she missed it sometimes, the familiarity of it, the lack of pressure to carry on a conversation, the distraction of the screen to keep her mind from living in the stress of the day or moving to what had to happen next.

Barba had no idea about this subtext, but he was more than happy to oblige.

"Fill up," he warned her as he went back for seconds. "We're probably going to want to go light on supper heading into dancing tonight."

"You're really excited about this, aren't you? Where are we even going?"

He explained that Saturday was Spanish night at DREAM, a club in the Hampton Bays corridor that still managed to draw fair sized weekend crowds even in the off-season. It was a half hour drive from where they were staying in Sagaponack. His mother had found it on Google when she'd joined him on his suspension-holiday and insisted he take her. He'd mostly sulked and drank but she'd had no trouble finding people to dance with her. It was a good feel, a good group of regulars across generations who were happy to welcome the newcomers. He was excited to be going back under better circumstances, when his heart felt free to let loose and enjoy.

He felt a pang of guilt about that. More than a pang, really. He knew he had no business feeling that free considering all that had transpired. But he pushed down the objections and renewed his resolve to make the absolute most of it, giving himself permission at least for her sake.

After finishing the program that they'd watched through the meal, Barba collected their dishes and encouraged her not to follow him to the kitchen.

"No, I want to help," she assured him.

"You really don't have to."

"Cleaning up is still 'nothing' in the grand scheme. And you said I could choose my 'nothings'," she reminded him.

And so for the remainder of their time away he didn't bother to talk her out of cooking or cleaning or anything else, understanding that just the knowledge that it was her choice to participate was all the rest she needed.

Dishwasher loaded and kitchen put to rights, Barba fought the urge to ask her what she planned on doing next, not wanting to force a decision. But thankfully it was information she offered unprompted while standing before the bookshelf in the living room. "I'm going to read a book, I think."

"I don't think I've ever seen you read a book," Barba considered aloud. "At least not one for grownups."

"Shameful, isn't it? I wish I could say I just don't read when you're around, but it's been a long time since I did any recreational reading that wasn't on my phone."

"Well, I think reading is a splendid idea. I may do the same." And he went to his room to find the book he'd packed that he'd already started. He returned to find her curled up in a large, comfortable chair by the window, a place where he'd done some reading himself when he'd last visited. "Okay if I read in here, too?" When she confirmed it was both okay and preferred, he stretched out on the couch. "So, what did you choose?"

"Um... It's..."

He rolled on his side and peered over the armrest, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover. When he noticed her deliberately turn it away, he had a pretty good idea of what she was hiding. "Olivia, are you reading a _smut_ book?"

She ducked her head, genuinely embarrassed as she admitted, "I prefer the term "romance novel". It DOES have a storyline, or so the summary on the back would lead me to believe."

"A smutty storyline, I bet. I'm so impressed with this revelation," he teased with awed amusement. "Are you sure you don't want to be alone so you can fully enjoy it?"

"Barba!" she scolded, laughing and turning pink to her ears.

"Olivia Benson's guilty pleasure is smutty romance novels. Will wonders never cease."

"And I suppose you're reading Tolstoy over there," she shot back, hoping to turn the tables.

"How'd you guess? I'm a sucker for the classics."

"Liar."

"You're saying I'm not a classy guy?"

"You're full of shit is what you are. Show me."

When he refused, his grin a challenge, she stood and walked over to the couch, prompting him to hide the book between the cushions and block it with his body. When she playfully reached for it, he grabbed _her_ book from her free hand and started paging through it, looking for something particularly risque to read aloud and further embarrass her. "Now, where do I find the naughty bits?"

Of course, she was a trained police officer and he was mostly a desk jockey, so after some scuffling and a lot of giggling she had both books with her across the room. And while he was catching his breath she was learning something new about him. "You're teasing me about romance novels when you're reading tabloid-level true crime trash? Don't you get enough of this stuff at work?"

"I'm unemployed now, remember? Maybe I'm just scratching an itch."

"So if I go snooping through your place when we get back I won't find a stash of these somewhere?"

He paused. "I plead the fifth."

And they both laughed.

"I'm not sure which guilty pleasure is more embarrassing. So why don't we call it a draw and make this a judgment free zone? I'll read my trash and you'll read your smut and no one else will ever have to know?"

"Deal," she agreed with a grin, tossing his book back to him and returning to her chair.

Barba nodded off after a while and woke up alone. He found her back in the sunroom lounging in the hammock, her book in her lap but her attention focused outwards at the private stretch of beach, deserted not just because of the temperature and the lack of tourists in the area but because the house was in relative seclusion, something that the timeshare owners paid a premium for.

"Do you think we could come back here when there weather's nice? Noah's never swam in the ocean."

"Maybe not here. This place is pretty well used in the summer, I've been told. But I'm sure we can find somewhere else." He nudged the hammock with his hip, causing it to swing slightly. "Mind your soft tissue. This won't be graceful." But he managed to climb in beside her without his elbows or knees doing any damage.

It took them awhile to get comfortable, but eventually he slipped an arm behind her head and the sighed almost in unison, relaxing their bodies. Barba thought Olivia had returned her focus onto her book, but when she spoke again it was obvious she was distracted by the view.

"I always loved the ocean, but we never got to see it much," she told him. "We didn't have a car when I was growing up; I can barely remember leaving the city. But this one time..."

It was so unlike Olivia to share stories from her childhood, even with him, and so when she did he always took extra care to really listen and honour her openness. He wished now he could see her face, but he tuned in not only to her words but to her voice, her breathing, the tension and release of her muscles, her little self deprecating laugh when she said something she recognized and named as pathetic, the way his lips pressed to her temple seemed to sooth her and encourage her to continue.

And rather than preparing to respond or to share himself, rather than asking questions to learn more, he just listened. And when she was done sharing he held her words in his mind and heart for awhile as they stared past the waves lapping at the beach. And eventually he held her body against his when she shifted on her side and tucked her head under his chin and an arm around his torso.

Best. Vacation. Ever.


	27. Dancing

_**A/N -** Special thanks to theoofoof for the typo hunt!_

* * *

They'd been dancing around it for months. So perhaps it was fitting that it was the night they literally went dancing that the figurative dancing stopped.

"Have you been thinking about us having sex?"

While Barba's eyes didn't leave the road, his hands gripped the steering wheel just a little tighter. "I'm not being coy, but I can't quite tell by your tone whether you're suggesting I think of it now or if that you were hoping for some more philosophical discourse."

Olivia huffed out a laugh. "The latter."

"Ah." He paused as the GPS gave an instruction, then reached out to turn it off. He didn't want to be interrupted, and he knew how to get back from here. "Well, I would say that a part of me wouldn't be opposed, considering the very inkling that it MIGHT be a proposition may have... perked me up a little." He glanced at her only to see _her_ glancing toward his lap with a smug little grin. It was too dark to be revealing, thankfully. And also too dark for her to notice the heat that rose to his cheeks. "Haven't we had this discussion before, in a few different incarnations?"

"Not since we didn't have 'conflict of interest' as a variable."

"I guess you're right." He let out a slow breath, acknowledging to himself that it did make a hell of a difference. "Well, in that case, our near-'sensational' evening aside...Honestly, Liv, the longer I've known you, the less I've thought about having sex with you."

"Wow," she exclaimed, amusement in her voice. "Thanks for letting me down easy, there, Barba."

"Maybe I should qualify that."

"Yeah, maybe you'd better."

"You asked for it," he warned with a chuckle, then took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Listen, when I first met you, I thought you were... brilliant. Formidable. Attractive, obviously. And _bossy._ My God you were bossy. A bit of a know-it-all. Uptight about certain things. And because we worked together completely off-limits. That combo totally did it for me."

"Right," she said sarcastically. But when he looked at her briefly with a self-deprecating smile, she cocked her head in disbelief. "Wait. Are you being serious? Did you actually have a _crush_ on me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say "crush". I mean, I wasn't carrying a torch for you and crying myself to sleep at night because we couldn't be together. But I definitely was aware of you as a sexual being and as someone who under different circumstances I would..." He let his intended crass remark die and went with something a little more appropriate instead. "... _pursue_ given the opportunity." It was his turn for disbelief. "Did you really not pick up on that?"

"I really didn't. Even in retrospect... I mean, I guess you could land on the flirty side of smug from time to time, but I don't think I ever would have classified it as genuine interest."

"That's because I'm a consummate professional," he said with a smirk. "Anyway, as time passed you were just as brilliant and formidable, of course, and I recognized that in a lot of ways you really DID know it all, so that part of you got less obnoxious. And you even somehow managed to become MORE attractive...and more bossy. There may be a correlation there."

"Nice."

"And the more I got to know you, and the more time we spent together, I just started to see you differently."

"Huh." Olivia paused to try to take it all in. "So how long was this transition, exactly?"

"Well, I thought I was over it by the time I found out you were with Tucker... but that whole debacle may have caused an unexpected flare up."

A longer pause this time. "You were jealous of Tucker."

The utter shock in her voice was shocking to _him._ "Wow, Liv. How are you actually such a terrible detective?" He pulled into the driveway and shut off the car, but neither made a move to get out. "Though I've got to say I'm kind of relieved I kept that under wraps obviously much better than I thought I did. I mean, don't get me wrong, everything that followed that was NOT personal; I did what needed to be done. But how I reacted when I first figured it out... Not my best moment."

"Huh," she said again, at a complete loss for words.

Barba, however, still had much to say. "Anyway, at some point, and I don't really know when, you became someone I wanted to support, and help succeed, and someone I wanted to be happy. And there really wasn't room for those feelings anymore. So, have I thought about us having sex? Yes. But other than our one little slip, not for a long time. And philosophically speaking, to address what I'm assuming is at the heart of your question... Now that we don't work together anymore and sex with you would not be off-limits from a professional perspective...I'm still not convinced it's something we necessarily need to be thinking about."

"You're not convinced," Olivia repeated, her tone neutral.

"Nope. Why, are you?"

"Well... No."

"Okay, then. Glad to know we are of the same mind on this." A shared smile. "I should have known the dancing would bring this on."

Dancing had been fun. It was sweaty and handsy and Barba hadn't been lying about his Cuban hips, which spent most of the evening pressed intimately against her own. While Olivia had insisted she needed to be plied with alcohol to get her loosened up enough to enjoy herself, Barba had challenged her to remain sober and just trust that he would lead and that no one would be looking at them anyway. Sober had been a good idea, because with the sweat and the hands and the Cuban hips it wouldn't have taken much to see them get carried away.

"It wasn't _just_ the dancing, thank you very much. You once told me that you had certain criteria for having this conversation. And I'm not drunk, I'm not horny, and I'm not feeling particular sentimental, so it felt like an appropriate time."

"But the dancing helped." He smirked at her sideways, knowing full well it had. He seen glimpses of something new in her eyes that night, though not when it might have been expected, when his hands had rested low on her hips and their bodies were flush together and the pumping bass of the music thrummed inside them. That had just been fun, and they'd remained largely separated from the inherent sexiness of their movements by all the fumbling and laughter and the comfort they already had with each other.

No, it had been in the moments in between, when they were resting, watching others dance, not bothering to try to speak over the volume in the room. It was then when he'd witnessed her more than once looking at him thoughtfully, unashamedly. Apparently, he realized now, giving herself permission to consider things she'd generally made concerted effort not to consider.

"So this wasn't your plan all along? It wasn't your end-game with the dancing?"

"It most certainly was not!" Barba exclaimed, scandalised by the very notion. "In fact, I'm starting to think maybe it was _yours_!"

"Not at all. Though I'll admit I was afraid this whole grown-up vacation business might lead to sex."

"Ouch. 'Afraid', huh?"

"Wrong word." A beat. "Definitely the wrong word, actually. 'Aware' would be more accurate."

"I think my mother was also 'aware'. Or 'hopeful'. Hence her insistence that she take Noah."

"I've no doubt," she laughed with him. It was obvious to her from even their limited interaction that Lucia had the potential to be a world-class meddler.

"Well," Barba offered, "don't get me wrong, it could be fun."

"It could definitely be fun."

"And as I recall 'several orgasms' was never really taken off the table."

"Not officially, no." It was so _them_ to discuss the potential of a sexual encounter as calmly and comfortably as they might a point of law or a takeout order.

"But I can't have sex with someone I care so much about and not have it change the dynamic of that relationship. I'm sorry."

"I don't really think that's something to apologise for, Rafa." She shivered then. "It's getting cold in here. We should go in."

"You sure you can control yourself without a console in between us?"

"I hate you so much sometimes."

They separated to get cleaned up and dressed for bed; it was nearly 1 in the morning and they were exhausted from the hour and from the dancing but too wired to sleep just yet. When Barba let himself into her room after a quick knock and assurance she was decent, he stood in the doorway and said in a serious voice, "Tell me the truth, Benson. The shower you just took - hot or cold?"

"You're incorrigible."

"Only on vacation." He stayed in the doorway as he watched her climb into bed. "Would it be too weird to hop in there with you while we're talking about sex?"

"I guess you've decided we need to finish this conversation before sunrise, huh?"

"Hey, blame the one who started it. I just thought some resolution might help us sleep better." He didn't wait for her explicit permission before crawling under the covers. "You're the one with sex on the brain. Just keep your hands to yourself, there, woman."

She couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness as she turned out the light.

Barba was well aware of his penchant to be less guarded and filtered at this time of night, and imagined she probably suffered from the same affliction. But he felt that this subject warranted a little less filtering than it might otherwise get in the daylight, which is why he was pressing her to continue. "So, where did we leave off?"

"I believe you'd just made a gentlemanly statement decrying casual sex."

"I did no such thing! I've been known to be a fan under the right circumstances. But sex between best friends is never going to be just casual. Certainly not if it's done right."

She chuckled. "And you -"

"Stop flirting. You're being inappropriate." She backhanded him across the chest, a chastising slap. "Hands," he reminded her sternly.

And then they both got the giggles, and the conversation was delayed.

When they finally fell silent, they both grew reflective. And when it came to being ready to share their thoughts, Olivia beat him to the punch. "Do you think it's weird that we're not sleeping together?"

"You mean is it weird that at our age - " She coughed - "two busy, successful adults of opposite genders would value or need the stability of friendship over the pressure and volatility of romantic entanglements? Maybe "weird" in the sense that it's uncommon. But I'd like to think that we're very lucky and blessed to have stumbled into "weird", and that others would opt for it if they knew it was a possibility." He paused to give her a chance to contribute, but when she didn't he pressed on. "On the other hand, sometimes I ask myself - and we've skirted around this idea before - if the only practical difference between "love" and "in love" for us would be nudity, tongue kissing and the promised 'several orgasms'."

He expected her to smile or laugh, but her tone was biting when she replied, "The difference would be trajectory. In my experience and from what I've observed, friendships as strong as ours, given as much time and work as ours, tend to get stronger. But relationships tend to end."

"Well, Mary Sunshine, maybe you haven't seen or experienced relationships with the right people. Or maybe that's just some serious baggage talking."

He never would have said that in the light. And she would never have so easily agreed.

"And maybe that's it. Maybe I need to head back to therapy."

"Liv -"

"No, really. You know, my time with Lindstrom was centered around getting me to be able to function again after trauma. But if I've plateaued at "function" and it's holding me back from something more, holding YOU back, then -"

"Liv, it's okay to love what we have, too. That doesn't necessarily mean you're a slave to your baggage. That might just make you a realist."

"A realist, huh? Not a pessimist?"

"No. Not you. Never." A fundamental pessimist couldn't continue to do what she did for as long as she had, couldn't keep going to bat for victims despite all the times the system had failed, couldn't still allow herself to care so deeply. "The glass isn't half empty. It's just something precious. And you are wired to fight to protect precious things."

She didn't respond. But he knew his words had hit home for her, had meant something.

Eventually, she returned to the practical. "If I started dating someone, would that bother you? Like before?"

"You can say his name, Liv. Tucker isn't Voldemort." He heaved a sigh. "You're really asking a lot of tough questions tonight. How about you answer first? Would it bother you if _I_ started dating someone?"

"Well... Yeah, I think it would. I'm already so busy, and when you're working again you will be too. I feel like if you were dating someone we wouldn't find the time and we'd never see you."

"Olivia, you're my best friend. I would make the time. You and Noah, you've become..." And suddenly he stopped, unexpectedly choked up. "Ah, damn it."

"Sentimental," she accused fondly. "We should put a pin in this conversation, then. Based on your rules."

"Rules are made to be broken. Besides, I was also mildly horny when we began, and still managed objectivity just fine."

"I'm finding 'sentimental' to be a bigger danger than 'horny' in this situation, which considering we're talking about sex is pretty ironic."

And that's when Barba laid out plainly what they both already knew but hadn't let themselves acknowledge. "We're not talking about sex, Liv. We never were."

Several heavy minutes passed. And then Barba sat up abruptly and started to push off the blankets. "Okay, I'm going to bed. You want to plan to go out for brunch?"

"You can't honestly be okay about leaving this here. I don't know if I'll even be able to look you in the eye in the morning!"

"Of course you will. Because I'm your best friend, and we can talk about anything, even this. That's the beauty of this crazy, weird thing we have." He dropped a kiss on her head and then stood to make his way from the room. "Besides, I think we're on sentimental overload. Much more of this mush and one of us is going to break into song." He could practically hear her eye-roll. "Door open or shut?"

"Open please."

"K. Get some sleep, Benson. There's lots of nothing to be done tomorrow."

"And lots more to talk about."

She didn't know the half of it.


	28. Process

_**A/N -** Thanks to xphile101 for the beta!_

"You should have told me this was here! I didn't think to pack my swimsuit!"

"Actually, it's a new addition that I wasn't aware of. But we don't need swimsuits anyway; there's no one for miles."

The look she gave him was... versatile.

"Oh, get over yourself, Benson. I've seen you mostly naked anyway."

"Even if that were true - "

"Which it is."

"- there's a big difference between mostly naked and actually naked."

It _was_ true that Barba had seen Olivia in various states of undress, generally with permission or consent but occasionally accidental due to failures to announce his presence or to knock when entering a room. He'd seen a lot of skin. He'd seen a lot of scars. But mostly because of the precautions she'd learned to take having a son who also tended not to announce his presence or knock when entering a room, Barba had never seen her "good bits", as he once jokingly called them. And in that moment it was obvious that Olivia felt it was going to take more than the hot tub they'd discovered to change that.

"More room for me, then," Barba said casually while reading the laminated instructions for winter use that were affixed to the cover. He knew that naked or no she'd end up in there with him by the end of the night. "It should be usable; they've kept it maintained. I'm going to call the building manager just to make sure it's all kosher." The idea of a Sunday evening in the hot tub under the stars seemed like an enjoyable way to cap off what was already shaping up to be a pretty nice day.

They'd both managed to sleep in, Barba because of recent practice and Olivia because she hadn't been quite as successful as him at letting go of their conversation and had had some trouble finally dropping off.

As it was, her fear of not being able to look him in the eye hadn't actually materialized; with the light had come perspective. But when she joined him in the living room just after 10, fully dressed and ready for the day, he cutely grabbed her face in his hands and held her stare. She immediately understood and tried to match his feigned intensity, but couldn't help smiling when he dropped a tiny kiss on the end of her nose and said with a smirk, "I told you it could be done. Ready for brunch?"

The restaurant they chose seemed to be between the pre-church breakfast and the post-church lunch crowds, so they had their pick of booths and their server had the time to be attentive. And because they were mostly alone Olivia didn't feel bad about taking a call from Noah when Barba handed her his cell.

"Mommy! I went to Sunday School!" Apparently Lucia had taken him to early Mass and then to the 9 a.m. children's program, which he excitedly described. "And I have a new friend named Leah and it's her birthday and her mom invited me to her party and it's TODAY! Can I go?"

"Well, how about you hand the phone to Miss Lucia and we'll talk about."

"Okay!"

There was some muffled conversation and some rustling and then Lucia was saying good morning. "Sorry, I should have spoken to you first, but Noah was insistent."

"No problem! I'm so glad he's having such a wonderful time!"

"He's not the only one, truly. Anyway, what he failed to mention is that he and I were BOTH invited to this party, so he wouldn't be going there alone. But I still wanted to clear it with you first." Olivia knew that Barba had shared with his mother, at least in generalities, about Noah's history and recent events with Sheila. Obviously Lucia was sensitive to the fact that Olivia's trust in her to care for her son would not have come easily, and wanted to honour it by running things by her. "It's a family who's been going to the church for a long time, but admittedly not one I know well so I'd be sure to keep a close eye."

"Lucia, if you don't mind taking him, I'm all for it. Though I hope it's not putting you out too much; I already owe you big time!"

"I confess I've been sleeping well at night after trying to keep up with this ball of energy! But it's only a fair trade, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Me taking care of your son while you take care of mine. And you've been at it for much longer than me. I'd say I owe YOU!"

Olivia laughed loudly with delight at the thought, causing Barba to give her a curious look, obviously wishing he could hear both sides of the conversation. "I like to think we take care of each other," she said warmly. "Would you like to speak with him?"

A rapid exchange in Spanish with lots of huffing and eye rolling on Barba's part had Olivia grinning into her coffee. And when he signed off she couldn't help but goad him about how his mom obviously had his number to be able to get under his skin like she did. "But you know you love it."

"I love _her_ ," he clarified with a scowl. "At least most of the the time." But his eyes softened affectionately and Olivia was glad for him that, as much as Lucia might infuriate him, they had each other and cared so deeply. "I might as well apologise in advance about the fact that Noah is now calling my mother "Abuelita"; I heard him in the background."

"THAT'S what you were after her about?" She'd heard his side of the conversation, but without the context hadn't understood.

"She maintains that she was just following the 'family tree' up from 'Uncle Rafa' when she suggested it. She was in labour with me for over 27 hours and yet she still apparently thinks I was born yesterday."

Olivia laughed. "I don't care what he calls her. You know my penchant to create family names; we'd probably have graduated to 'Auntie Lucia' eventually anyway. If she prefers 'grandma', no matter her motivations, who am I to argue?"

Barba just smiled and shook his head.

The food arrived and they dug in with gusto, their appetites fueled by having waited so long to eat and from the exercise on the dance floor the night before.

"It means a lot to her, you know, that you let her take Noah," Barba offered after they'd spoken of Lucia a little more. "And to me too. I know it must have been hard for you after everything that's happened. And since you really don't know her that well."

"I considered changing my mind several times leading up to this trip," she confessed. "But I just kept reminding myself that I trust you to do what's best for Noah."

Barba was struck dumb by her simple, offhanded proclamation, to hear that her confidence wasn't in Lucia but in Barba himself making the decision that Noah would be safe in her care. He tried to distract from his reaction by taking a mouthful of food, but it was too little, too late.

"Who would have thought that vacation-Barba would be such a mushy old thing?" she said with a smirk. "Unless that was just ego you were trying to hide under scrambled eggs."

He glared at her and look a sip of water. "It's not my fault Vacation-Benson keeps pushing out this ridiculous sentimentality. Besides, maybe I've always been a 'mushy old thing', as you so lovingly describe it, and you're just so mean to me in real life you've failed to notice."

"Oh, I've noticed," she said, teasing in her voice and a fond expression on her face.

After a drawn-out brunch they visited the Guild Hall Museum, strolling through the exhibits before they headed to Montauk Point and from the lighthouse felt as though they were at the edge of the world. And on their drives between locations they listened to music from his iPod and sang along.

It was well above freezing with sunny clear skies when they returned to Sagaponack, so Olivia had requested they walk on the beach. It was on their way to the shore that they'd discovered the hot tub just off the back of the house. And after following the instructions of the property manager to ensure it would be ready for their use that evening, they continued on their way.

The cold wind coming off the water was biting at times but worth it. Olivia just pulled her collar up tighter and putting on her gloves. The tide was on its way out and so they were walking on what had recently been the ocean floor, crunching shells beneath their shoes and stepping over rocks and seaweed.

They didn't say much, the silence filled by the sound of the waves. And when it occurred to Olivia how lovely it was to spend time with someone with whom silence could be so comfortable, it was she that got a bit mushy about it, looping her arm through his and keeping him close.

When they returned to the house, they shed their outerwear and brought their books to the sunroom, Olivia back in the hammock and Barba in a chair, entertaining one another by reading out loud the cheesiest parts of the stories as they were encountered. "I notice you're going all 'cheese' and no 'sauce'," Barba pointed out at one point. "A little prudish for an SVU detective to have trouble sharing the sex scenes, isn't it?"

"I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable, Counselor," she assured him with a smile in her voice. "Though admittedly it's uncommon to use phrases like 'heaving bosom' and 'engorged manhood' in my squad briefings."

Barba barked out a laugh. "I think you made the right choice. I'm uncomfortable already."

They worked together on a simple dinner, opting once again to enjoy their meal from the couch in front of the TV. They stayed there long after they'd finished eating, happy to allow Netflix to keep advancing to the next episode of the program they'd chosen.

Eventually Barba glanced out the window and then at his watch. "The sun's going to set soon. Want to watch it from the hot tub?"

"If you're going to insist on my nudity, I'd rather wait until after dark if you don't mind," she joked. So they turned off all the lights in the house and watched the sun fall below the horizon from the hammock instead. They stayed there until long after last light.

"Sorry, Liv, but my arm's starting to cramp up," Barba apologised at one point. She'd been using his bicep as a pillow.

"Oops. My bad." But rather than moving away she rolled closer, settling her head on his chest so he could move his arm again. Which he did, to wrap around her.

Awhile later he spoke again. "You're not falling asleep, are you?"

"Nope." She was wide awake.

"Just thinking, then?"

"Actually, not really." That wasn't quite true. She'd been thinking about the stars, how beautiful they were. The lights of the city never allowed for a view like this. She was being reminded of the vastness of the universe, and how small and inconsequential she really was. It was humbling. It was also comforting.

So yes, she was thinking. But not in the way he'd meant when he'd asked. She knew he was afraid her mind was already returning to real life, to the stress of her work and the responsibilities of her home. And she knew this more existential reflection would pass muster, so she didn't bother to clarify.

"And what about you? What deep thoughts have lulled you into such uncharacteristic quiet? Mushy ones, I suppose."

"Oh, you know. Football. Power tools. 'Heaving bosoms'."

"Well, that's about as un-mushy as it gets."

Really he'd been thinking about how he might broach the idea of staying an extra day, rehearsing different options in his mind. Their plan had been to drive home late tomorrow so Olivia would have a full day on Tuesday to transition back into real life and catch up on household tasks before returning to work. But this getaway had turned out so much more simple and uncomplicated and grounding than he could have hoped, and while he could try to tell himself it was for her benefit, he was also being selfish in wishing to extend their time for just a little longer.

And it was because of that selfishness that he couldn't bring himself to ask. They'd just have to enjoy the time they had left to the best of their abilities.

"Almost ready for the hot tub?"

"I find it suspicious that you jumped from 'heaving bosoms' to getting me naked."

With a laugh he slipped out from under her, causing her to shift and roll into the middle as he rather ungracefully left the hammock. "You seem really caught up on the nudity aspect of this experience. I'm guessing you've never enjoyed an outdoor hot tub on a cold barely-post-winter's night."

"Actually I have once before... but that time nudity was definitely an overriding focus."

Past sexual experiences were something they'd never shared about, and Barba was hoping to keep it that way so he didn't let the conversation linger there. "Well, get your mind out of the gutter, Lieutenant. I assure you my focus will be on the stars and not your 'bosoms', heaving or otherwise." He grabbed the rope and gave it a little tug as though he was about to upend her. "I'm going to go check to make sure everything's in working order and ready for us. The property manager said there should be robes folded in one of the linen closets if you want to try to find them."

About a half hour later they were robed and ready, the tub steaming and bubbling in invitation, two very full glasses of wine and a pile of towels placed within reach. "Why don't you go hop in, and once you're settled I'll join you?" Barba suggested, turning to face the house.

"Such a gentleman."

When she announced it was safe, he turned and slipped out of his robe so quickly she didn't have time to shield her eyes. "Hey! No fair!" she exclaimed when she realized he was wearing boxers.

"Problem?" he asked cheekily. "Perhaps because of your assertion that there's a big difference between 'mostly naked' and "actually naked'? I'd remind you that I never said I subscribe to that point of view."

She was having none of it. "Drop your pants, Counselor."

"Well, since you asked so nicely." He gestured for her to turn her head. "Would you mind?"

"What? If I've seen you mostly naked, what's the difference, right?"

He had to give her points for the clever turnabout. But when he answered with a slightly stronger, one-fingered gesture, she laughed and made a show of covering her eyes. "No peeking."

"Says the man I caught trying to get a look at my boobs at least twice in the last 45 seconds or so."

She was rewarded for her accusation with a splash in her direction as he sunk down into the water beside her.

As beautiful as the stars had been from the inside, it was nothing compared to being under them in the open air. And instead of getting emotional about it Olivia felt positively giddy. "Did I mention 'best vacation ever'?"

They talked and admired and drank and occasionally splashed until Barba thought to ask, "How long can we safely stay in here for? I feel like that's something we should have Googled."

"If they discover us cooked, hopefully they'll tell our loved ones we died relaxed and happy."

"I'll drink to that." They clinked their glasses and downed the rest of the wine.

But as they fell quiet and turned their attention back to the stars, Olivia found herself growing reflective, and the wine made her brave. "Hey, Rafa? You know, we still haven't really talked about what happened. With Drew."

He was caught off guard but still managed a quick response. "You bring this up now? While we're naked?" he asked dryly.

"Well, we can actually have the conversation when we're less naked, if you'd feel more comfortable," she replied, okay with him trying to lighten the mood. "I'm not trying to put a damper on things. And I know I should have asked a long time ago, but things have just been so…good."

He couldn't deny that. "So what's changed? Are things not 'good' anymore?"

"Don't be an idiot. You know things are great. This is great. This whole weekend – it's been just what I needed. But I feel like maybe talking about it might be what you need. Whether you'll admit it to me or not. Or to yourself." Their eyes met, and she could tell he was deep in thought. Then came a nearly imperceptible nod. "Good," she affirmed with a smile. "If you'd avert your eyes, I'll go… get less naked."

But as she shifted forward and lifted her hand from the water intending to find leverage to hoist herself up, he intercepted it and held it instead. "There's no hurry. We can be naked for a little while longer."

She didn't perceive it as stalling, guessing that he really just wanted some time to try to collect his thoughts in preparation. So she settled back again, dropping his hand but leaning slightly against him so that their arms were touching, a silent show of support.

Later when he got out of the shower she was waiting for him in his room, atop the covers but laying down on her back, her hands folded across her stomach, staring at the ceiling.

He climbed up beside her and unconsciously mirrored her position.

"So."

"So," she repeated.

"What do you want to know?'

"It's not what I want to know. This isn't about curiosity. I just..." She sighed, trying to order her thoughts. "I guess it's just, what do you need to say? Have you been talking to anyone?"

"No," he told her, not quite sheepish but perhaps realizing he should be. "I mean, not really. Not since my lawyer, since the trial."

"I'm sorry."

He turned his head, looking at her critically. "Why are you sorry?"

"I should have forced the issue long before now."

"Hey, don't do that. Look at me." She did. "Olivia, you never needed to push. I know I can talk to you about anything."

"Then why haven't you?"

"I don't know. I just... I'm used to processing out loud and on paper. And I've been stuck in my own head about it for so long I don't even know that I could really articulate what's going on."

"So process out loud. We've got all the time in the world. You'll find the words eventually. Just start talking."

And so he did.

He talked about the night it happened, standing over the child's hospital bed, seeing and feeling the mother's anguish. The split second decision. The aftermath. And after circling around it for awhile, he found himself admitting something he hadn't yet admitted fully to himself: his shame for _not_ feeling guilty, or really even all that bothered by what he had done.

"I feel like I should be a wreck, you know? Like I should have fallen apart. But I truly believe that what happened was the moral, humane outcome. It's not something I've had to wrestle with. I've only TRIED to, because I felt like I should."

They were facing each other now, and Olivia studied his face. "But you are bothered by something."

"I'm bothered by the fact that I acted so rashly, without taking the time to weigh the consequences. I mean, I just as easily could have gone home that night, thought about it, and then gone back the next day and made the same choice. Or not. I mean, yes, I believe that it was the moral, humane outcome. But was it my place to bring it about? Was it my right? My responsibility?"

He may have been looking for her to provide an answer, but she said nothing, just waiting for him to continue.

"I would have had a hard time prosecuting someone else who did what I did, because I would understand the choice and believe it was ultimately the right one. But to have done it myself..." He looked away, his teeth gnawing on his lower lip. Then, "I could have ended my career, any chance of a career in the future. Jesus, I could have gone to PRISON, Olivia. What the hell was I thinking?"

This time he was looking for a response, one of agreement, perhaps one of absolution. What he got instead was a non-judgemental smile and a look of expectancy.

Looking back later, he would appreciate how this was so different than he'd seen her act with victims, where she would offer so much verbal affirmation, ask so many questions to help them open up. Her patience, her silence, was how she honoured him and his ability, his need, to work things out for himself.

He talked for awhile longer, having so much more to say than he thought he would. And when he had talked himself out, he didn't feel different, per say. Didn't feel better, really. What he felt was heard, and understood, and validated by that understanding. And now that he had brought his innermost feelings into the light, he felt like he was better equipped to face them in the days, weeks and months to come.

"Thank you," he said finally, simply.

Her grin was subtle yet somehow radiant. "I love you, you know," she told him, bringing a hand to rest against his cheek.

"I know. I love you, too." And he leaned in to seal the moment with a sweet, chaste, lingering kiss.

But when he started to pull away and she held him there, kissing him again, he couldn't help but smirk against her lips. "Stop trying to make out with me."

She scoffed, and the hand that had cradled his face so tenderly now squished him sideways into his pillow in retaliation. "In your dreams, Barba."

To which he replied in the flirtiest tone he had in his arsenal, "More often than you know."

And then they were both chuckling as she rolled away from him to switch off the light. There was a momentary pause, and then she lifted her body so she could push down the covers and get beneath them. He wordlessly followed suit, deeply grateful that she'd chosen not to leave him alone with his thoughts that night.

She settled on her side, facing away, but inched back toward him until her body pressed against his.

"Are you vying to get spooned, Lieutenant?"

"I thought this was a judgement-free zone. Or does that only apply to our reading material?"

"No judgement. Just looking for affirmative consent."

"Very socially responsible of you. By all means, spoon away."

Barba didn't need to be told twice. He slid one arm under her pillow and with the other drew her flush against him. Their legs tangled, and his hips cradled hers. As his face nuzzled into her shoulder, she couldn't - or didn't - fight a heavy, contented sigh.

And as he gave into sleep, which overtook him much more easily then he'd expected or felt he deserved, he held her tighter and hoped she'd still be there in the morning.

She was.


	29. Opportunity

A/N - I got stuck (read: unmotivated) on this chapter, so I finally had to say "enough" and just release it without filling it out. This is why I tend to write stand-alone chapters :) Enjoy!

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He woke with it on the tip of his tongue, emboldened by, of all things, the way her hair was tickling his nose on the pillow they were sharing. But when he smoothed her hair away and she obviously thought he was going to tell her it was time to get up and she grumbled something that sounded like "I may not have my gun but I still know multiple ways to kill a man", he wisely decided it might be better to wait.

When he folded down the blankets and moved to get out of bed, he suddenly had a hand on his chest, applying enough pressure to make him think the better of it. "I just have to pee," he assured her. "I'll be back." The pressure lessened and he slipped away. He brushed his teeth for good measure, thinking that if she was already that cranky his morning breath wasn't likely to help.

She was gone when he returned, but joined him back in bed about a minute later, the smell of mint revealing she'd had the same idea.

"Morning, sunshine," he greeted quietly but brightly.

"No."

Well, alright then.

He'd hope they'd rouse in time for the sunrise, but as they'd already missed it he figured he might as well let her sleep. Tomorrow she'd be back home and by this hour Noah would be getting ready for school. It was only fair to allow her as much rest as she could possibly get.

He reached for his phone, intending to check his email and his Twitter feed. It was plucked from his hand before he could even unlock it. "No," Olivia said again, tucking it under her pillow as she flipped over to lay on her stomach.

Okay. So apparently all things related to their return to real life were not allowed. Getting up early and cell phones really were the worst offenders, so he couldn't help but understand.

It was too dark in the room to read thanks to the blackout curtains, and he valued his life too much to attempt turning on a lamp. In the end, he gave in and followed her back to sleep.

It wasn't until they were halfway home that he finally brought it up.

"So. I have something I need to run by you." He turned a bit in the passenger seat so he could watch her reaction.

"Shoot." Olivia was feeling more agreeable now that they were actually on the road, excited that in just a few hours she'd be seeing her son.

"Well, I've had a job offer, just a short contract."

"That's fantastic!" She removed her right hand from the steering wheel briefly and gave his forearm a congratulatory squeeze. "I didn't realize you were actively looking yet."

"I'm not; this one came to me. They want me on jury selection, counsel coaching, and probably some initial witness prep and screening. Not glamorous, but it's a pay cheque. And more than that it's something to help me transition back, or at the very least give me a little more time to get my shit together and figure out some more permanent next steps."

"So why you? I mean, besides your good looks and your recent notoriety, of course."

"I'm not sure either factored in, actually. It's very similar to a tricky case I tried back in Brooklyn. It was really high profile and it set some precedents. I guess they felt it's worth the expense to bring in someone with some experience."

"So what's the problem? It sounds perfect!"

"Well, it's not exactly local."

"Okay. How not local are we talking here?"

And here it was. "It's in Washington."

"Oh." She let it sink in, and then started doing the math. "Well, that's only, what, a four hour train ride?"

"State."

"Oh", she repeated. She didn't have any handy math for that one at the ready.

"But like I said, a short contract. Six weeks tops, and probably less for what they need me to do. And I wouldn't even be waffling except I wanted to talk to you first about whether it might be upsetting to Noah if I went."

"Oh," she said again. But after a moment she broke into a bright smile. "You're telling me you'd give up a chance like this to avoid upsetting my son?"

"I just..." He sighed, feeling a bit sheepish in having to say it out loud. "I just know from experience how important stability is for a kid at that age, and at all ages. And with him getting close to Sheila and all that happened... I know it's not the same, and I know it's temporary, but I just want to make sure that whatever decision we make it's the right one for him."

"I'd kiss you if it wasn't likely to cause an accident." They both laughed. "When do you have to tell them by?"

"I told them they'd have an answer in their email by the end of today."

"Is THAT what you were hiding in your email?"

"Guilty as charged."

"You sneak! And how long have you been sitting on this?"

"Just since Wednesday. You were so stressed last week, and I didn't want to interrupt our 'vacation proper' with decision making."

"You need to stop being so sweet and perfect while we're stuck in traffic." She took his hand then, pulling it onto her lap, gripping his fingers. "AND, you need to go to Washington. Of course you do. Noah will miss you, but we'll make sure he's prepared and understands what's going on."

"Just Noah, huh?" He meant to be sassy, but it came out on the side of sincere.

"Shut up and email them before you change your mind."

He pulled out his phone and did as he was told. And after he sit 'send' he returned his hand to her lap, resting it lightly on her thigh. "Six weeks is nothing," he reminded her, reminded himself.

Her fingers covered his again. "Barely enough time for anyone to miss anyone," she affirmed. "Now tell me all about it."

Their exchange for the remainder of the drive was animated, upbeat, enthusiastic. She was excited for him, and it allowed him to be excited for himself. But his hand stayed where it was, and a part of him missed her already.


	30. Parenting

Barba had witnessed both Olivia and Lucy carry out what was apparently the preferred discipline regime more than once, and had always been amazed by how calm they generally remained, often in the face of Noah having a total meltdown.

And yet when Barba finally found himself alone with a first sassy, then defiant, then literally kicking-and-screaming kindergartener, he was surprised that he too managed to keep a level head as he did his best to follow the examples he'd filed away out of interest without it ever quite occurring to him that he might someday be called upon to enact the ritual.

When Olivia arrived home around 6:45 p.m. on Wednesday, her first day back at work after their vacation, she found Barba reclined and reading on the couch, surrounded by scattered toys. This was unusual. Especially since he'd left the DA's office Barba enjoyed helping Olivia come home to a tidy house.

"Hey, you," she greeted, not quite able to keep the curiosity out of her voice. "Where's Noah?"

"In his room. He needed some cool down time." He set his phone on the coffee table. "Did you eat?"

"I grabbed something earlier." She glanced down the hallway and saw the egg timer just outside Noah's door. "I need to hop in the shower. How much time does he have left?" She was trying to draw out the details, inferring she could take over, feeling bad that he'd been stuck with her misbehaving child.

"Not long. But go take your shower; I've got it covered."

Olivia hesitated. It hadn't surprised her that Noah was having a bad day, suspecting that the reason he might be acting out was that the night before, after an afternoon and evening of adventuring, they'd broken the news to him about Barba's impending absence. And so she wondered if some extra intervention and understanding would be required. Noah had seemed to take it well then, but he'd had almost 24 hours to mull and process now. This type of reaction would fit his pattern to a T, and Barba wouldn't necessarily be aware of that dynamic.

In the end, Barba's nonchalance and relaxed smile convinced her to head to her room, but when she heard the "ding" from the timer, heard Noah's door open and his soft footfalls headed toward the living room, she couldn't help herself.

"Hi, Noah. Feeling better? Ready to talk through this?"

Olivia stood just out of sight and listened to Barba have a calm discussion with Noah about what factors and feelings had led to the meltdown, and what they could do differently next time to avoid it. Then she heard a genuine apology, words of affection exchanged, and an agreement that they should pick up his toys together so that when Liv got out of the shower she'd be happy to have a clean house.

Her heart was full as she snuck to the bathroom. But it ached more than a little as it finally began to set in she wouldn't be privy to these special moments for the 6 weeks he was gone.

"Hi, mommy!" Noah greeted her brightly when she finally joined them.

"Hi, sweet boy. Everything okay out here?"

"Yup. Wanna play Go Fish with me and Rafa?"

"That sounds like a great idea. You go find your cards and we'll clean off the coffee table."

When Noah ran to his room, Olivia took the time to hug Barba tightly. "When did we start coparenting?" she asked into his shoulder.

"Enjoy it while it lasts. You'll be single-momming it again soon enough."

"Don't remind me." Five days to go.

Five days that might as well have been two for the amount of time the three of them got to spend together, with things going crazy at the precinct and Olivia having to work long hours to stay on top of it all.

Barba and Noah, however, were finding lots of time to keep connected. Barba had worked it out with Lucy that he would pick Noah up from school for the rest of the week, then she would arrive just after bedtime to hold down the fort until Olivia arrived home, which led to two all-nighters that made up for the hours Lucy had missed: On Thursday night it was so late that she'd had to stay over and had taken Noah to school in the morning to let Olivia sleep in, and on Friday night Olivia hadn't made it home at all, falling asleep on the couch in her office just after 11 and sleeping through to a callout from the hospital around 7.

By mid-Saturday afternoon she'd been granted a reprieve when Fin sent her home for the rest of the weekend. She'd made it through the super that the boys took great pleasure in making her, but she'd nodded off on the couch before even Noah's bedtime, and barely remembered Barba tucking her into bed.

She'd awakened the next morning feeling rested, finally, and determined that their final day together before Barba's departure would not be wasted. But then things rarely went as planned.

"Hey, I just got called in. I'm going to have to renege on our afternoon."

Olivia had done nothing to hide the disappointment in her voice, and Barba decided not to make things worse by commiserating. "Have you called Lucy yet?"

"I was just about to."

"Don't bother. Noah can hang out with me."

"I CAN?"

Apparently he was on speaker phone.

"If your mom says it's okay, of course you can!" Barba was a little confused as to why Noah would ever assume otherwise, especially since they'd spent so much time together the last few days. But the mystery was solved in Noah's next proclamation.

"But it's Sunday! You and YOUR mom are having brunch!"

Noah had somehow gotten the idea that brunch was a very grown-up, sophisticated activity. No one was quite sure where he'd picked that up, but he and Liv had playfully built on it.

"So you'll just have to have brunch with us! We're going somewhere nice, though, so you'll need to wear a tie," he teased. "Do you have a tie?"

"I'm not sure. Mom, do I have a tie?"

"Somewhere, but we don't have time to look for it, I'm afraid."

"But I need it for brunch!"

"No worries, little man," Barba soothed affectionately. "You can wear one of mine."

There was that full, aching heart again. Trying to lodge itself in Olivia's throat as she and Barba worked out the details.

When Barba arrived at the precinct, Noah was sitting on Carisi's desk laughing at the detective's antics.

Carisi spotted Barba first. "Hey, Counselor! This is a surprise!" It was; Olivia had merely asked Carisi to keep on eye on Noah until the boy was picked up, and so he'd been expecting Lucy. "Long time no see!"

"Hey, Sonny," Barba greeted simply, smiling as Noah ran to him and not noticing Carisi's reaction to his use of his nickname. He also hadn't noticed his own slip, as it had become second nature to refer to the younger man as "Sonny" or "Uncle Sonny" when Noah would often bring him up.

Noah stuck his hand in Barba's sport jacket pocket. "Did you bring me a tie? And where's YOUR tie?"

"I brought two - one for me and one for you! You can chose which one you like best."

One was classy and boring. The other was loud and fun and ridiculous. He'd been sure that Noah would choose the latter, but that plan backfired when Noah was insistent that Barba wear the fun one. They were in the middle of a lesson on constructing a proper windsor knot when Noah's stomach growled loudly enough for Carisi to hear from his desk, where he'd been watching the proceedings silently and with great interest.

"Sounds like someone needs a snack. Shall we see what I have?" Carisi always seemed to have food in his desk he was willing to share with Noah. "Hmmm, these might be too sour for you, sport," he warned, pulling out a bag of sour key rings. "But only the sugary part on top. After that, it's just like a gummy worm."

Noah looked at Barba for direction.

"You can try one if you like," he encouraged.

Noah's reaction to the tiniest taste was priceless, making the men laugh in delight. Noah held the offending candy out to Barba. "Can you suck the sour off first?"

"Sure, buddy," he agreed, popping it into his mouth to dissolve most of the sugar before handing it back to him. While wearing the loud, ridiculous tie.

Carisi's brain had nearly reached a saturation point of inputs he just couldn't process, and he was almost relieved when a text came to summon him into the interrogation room as soon as he could get there. He reached out to ruffle Noah's hair. "Sorry, Noah. Your mom needs me to go help her catch the bad guys."

"That's okay, uncle Sonny. Rafa and I are having brunch with abuelita soon! Is it time to go?"

And that did Carisi in. He could only smile and wave dumbly as Barba and Noah said goodbye and walked off together hand in hand.

A uniformed officer, newer to the precinct and unaware of much of the team's history, greeted Noah as she passed by and into the bullpen. "Is that Noah's dad?" she asked Carisi offhandedly after nodding a hello.

"Nope, just a friend of the Lieutenant's," Carisi told her automatically, simply, but he wondered if that status would soon be changing, if it hadn't already. He for one was all for it, and not just because he valued Olivia's happiness. In his opinion, every little boy needed and deserved a father or father-figure in their life. And after all he'd just witnessed, after the little glimpses he'd seen in the past, he believed Barba - Barba! Who would've thought! - would do just fine.


	31. Departure

_A/N - This chapter appearing today thanks to an excellent beta by Italian Doll! Thanks so much, Natalie! :D_

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Since their most recent discussion of the nature of their relationship, Barba found himself ruminating more than once (usually during one of the more boring chores related to his upcoming departure) about just how far off "in love" stood from "love" in their present situation. Because he was fairly sure he wasn't in love with Olivia Benson. Years of mental discipline had formed strong habits that served them well since "conflict of interest" had suddenly been cleared from the table, and had probably also rescued them from potentially ruining things by giving in to a passing moment of lust as soon as they had the freedom to, just because they could.

Despite a few rather notable exceptions in his personal and professional life that had led to deep regret or deep shit, Rafael Barba was, at his core, a careful man, one who was loathe to do much of anything "just because he could." This was part time management, part the eternal "save your fork" optimism that had been drilled into him by his grandmother and had formed some early brain patterns he never did quite shake, and part having the good sense to recognise the benefits of delayed gratification and how immediate gratification might not be worth the consequences.

Though this wasn't that, not really. This was more about how he was a shrewd investor, and one who knew the value of patience in letting his investments mature.

The dividends of his investment to date in his friendship with Olivia had already far exceeded his expectation of return. Their work relationship had been centering and steadying as well as productive and mutually beneficial. Their personal relationship garnered similar results, and had helped him to recharge when his emotional or mental resources were low. The journey from black-and-white to shades of grey to colours, as he'd so poetically described the evolution she'd brought about in him, had brought about equal parts destruction and rebuilding of some of his most basic guiding principles. And having someone to come home to, even though it wasn't his home, had started to restructure the flow his life. He had stopped taking pride in his ability and commitment to pull all-nighters in the pursuit of justice, instead finding even greater satisfaction when he made it out of his office in time to put Noah to bed, in feeling the boy tucked against his chest while they read together.

But he was not in love with Olivia. All the groundwork laid when their professional integrity had necessarily ruled the day had not been a slow build up to a tumble into bed the minute the option presented itself. No, they hadn't been building up, but actually building something. Something strong and important, something deep and abiding and precious. Something real and enough in and of itself, without it needing to be a stepping stone to anything else.

They were partners. They were best friends. They were family. And he loved her, loved Noah.

But as he had "distance" on his mind, understandable considering the physical distance between New York and his new, albeit temporary, post in Washington, it made sense for him to consider the distance between "love" and "in love". And by Sunday night he hadn't come to any sort of conclusion.

Sunday night had come much quicker than he'd expected, and what he HAD concluded was he wasn't quite ready for "goodbye".

Neither, apparently, was Olivia. "But it's still early!" she reasoned as he made his way to the door. It was 8:30, and Noah had just fallen asleep.

"I know, but I told Lucy I'd meet her at nine to give her the keys and the official orientation."

Lucy staying at his place had been a stroke of genius. It gave her a place away from the house she shared with two roommates so she could start strong on an online course she was taking and generally luxuriate in having a space - and a classy one at that - to herself. It gave Barba the comfort of knowing that he was fulfilling the requirements of his insurance by not leaving it empty, as well as the good feeling of having done something meaningful for someone he cared about.

The choice to wait until 9 p.m. on the night before his departure to meet her was also a stroke of genius. The look that Olivia gave him made it very clear that she understood exactly his reasons and while a part of her may have realized it was for the best, the larger, more annoyed part was currently in control of her facial features.

He held up both hands in defence. "Hey, I'm not drunk, but I am feeling ridiculously sentimental. Rules are rules." And because he had somewhere to be, he didn't have the option to break this particular rule. Genius.

Olivia just rolled her eyes. "What about horny?"

"Not yet," he said with a smirk. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning."

"Come early for breakfast?"

"The airport is going to be bad enough. I don't think we should belabour this." The decision to see Barba off at the airport had been Noah's. The adults had discussed it previously and had determined that a private goodbye was a better option for everyone involved, but Noah, like most kids, was fascinated with planes. He had begged for them to visit the airport so he could watch Barba's plane take off, and though it required Noah to take a half-day off of school and Olivia to take a half-day off of work, they'd eventually agreed. And they could tell themselves it was for Noah, and not because _they_ wanted more time.

"You ARE sentimental." She touched his face tenderly. "How much of this is just you feeling unsure about the new job?"

"Not enough," he admitted without hesitation.

She looked at him for a long moment, thinking, considering. "Okay, get out of here. I hate it when you're right."

"No you don't." He kissed her lightly. "Bye." And then he left in a hurry.

A week ago he told her he wasn't sure they should be considering making any decisions about changing the nature of their relationship just yet. She of course had lacked context at that time, but he was being practical, knowing that 6 weeks apart could offer them healthy perspective, as opposed to a single week before parting which might lead them to condense things in an unhealthy way.

As he got into the waiting Uber, he felt gratified that he'd been right, and gave himself a proverbial pat on the back for his good judgement and strength of will. Mind you, he wasn't half-way home before he was starting to consider that maybe if his meeting with Lucy was short, he'd have time to finish packing and head back to Olivia's before she went to sleep.

A text from Olivia while he was in his elevator was the only thing that shut down his plan. "Wiped out. Headed to bed. Please confirm with Lucy she doesn't need to take Noah to school tomorrow. Night, Rafa. xo"

He typed out a quick response. He wouldn't have actually gone anyway. Right?

As he waited for Lucy Barba reflected on the day, how in many ways it had been a perfect send off even if it hadn't gone as planned due to Olivia being called in.

Brunch had been a joyful affair, with Noah and Lucia thick as thieves since their sleepover the weekend before. After bidding her goodbye, they'd walked a few blocks to 18th to a children's bookstore and picked out a book for them to read together while he was gone, buying copies for each of them. It was a chapter book, selected after a good deal of searching because it had exactly the amount of chapters as nights Barba was scheduled to be gone. The book would act as an advent calendar of sorts, helping the boy to keep track of when Barba would return. They'd read the first chapter that night, with Noah and Olivia cuddled close on either side of him.

Olivia had only arrived home just after four, exhausted. After a pasta supper, Noah's idea since Barba would be missing six spaghetti nights, they'd opted for a movie in deference to her lack of energy. The cuddling had started then, and understandably so. After all, they could still talk no matter where he was - by phone, by text, by Skype or Facetime. But CONTACT, PRESENCE was what they would be missing.

He was packed and mostly ready. Maybe after he met with Lucy he could close things up and take his luggage to Olivia's. He could climb into bed with her and fall asleep with her arm across his chest and they could have that breakfast in the morni -

A knock. Lucy had arrived. And by the time she left he'd gotten ahold of himself.

That hold was much more tenuous the next day.

Noah didn't have a real sense of how long Barba would be gone for, and he was excited for the bedtime Skype stories and postcards that Barba had told him to expect. That and the fact that they staged their goodbye by the viewing window so Noah could watch planes come and go had him too distracted to become emotional.

Barba and Olivia, on the other hand, didn't have that luxury.

Still, they were determined to put on a good show, and as the time approached for him to make his way to security, he pulled her from her chair and stood facing her. "Okay, I've gotta go."

After a deep breath, she cracked a grin. "Look at our brave faces."

"Yeah, we're awesome at this." They managed a laugh.

"Six weeks," she reminded them unnecessarily. It really wasn't that long.

"Maybe less," he responded.

"Knock 'em dead, Rafa. But not too dead." And he understood that she meant "Don't do so well that they won't let you leave."

He reached to embrace her, but she put a hand on his chest to stop him, knowing her brave face probably wouldn't last. Instead, she kissed him firmly, and when his fingers tightened at her hips to hold her to him and his lips moved against hers in a more intimate way than their usual goodbyes, she couldn't help but smile and tease, "Stop trying to make out with me."

"In your dreams," he teased back, remembering the last time they'd exchanged those words.

"Don't flatter yourself, Barba." And then she kissed him again, sweetly, and their foreheads rested together. "I'll see you in six weeks."

"Maybe less," he repeated.

"Rafa?" Noah was tugging his pant leg, a convenient interruption.

"Yeah, little man?"

Noah thrust Eddie the Elephant into Barba's hands. "I think you should take Eddie with you. So you don't feel scared on your trip."

Barba glanced at Olivia. She had taken a step away and was looking toward the ceiling, blinking furiously. No help at all.

With some difficulty Barba crouched down in front of Noah. "That is pretty much the nicest offer I've ever gotten. But I don't want to take Eddie away from you. I know how much you love him."

"I love you more," the boy said simply with a dimpled smile, and Barba had to swallow down the huge lump appearing in his throat.

"Kid, you're killing me here," Barba laughed as he pressed a finger to the corner of one eye to try to stop the impending tears. "What do you say, Eddie? Want to go on a big adventure? And we can send Noah lots of pictures?"

"Can you take a picture of him on the plane?!" Noah asked excitedly.

"Of course!"

"And can you take him to court with you?!" Noah had become a little obsessed with court since the day he had crashed the bail hearing.

"Well, I might be able to sneak him in with me in my briefcase," Barba conceded, crushing Eddie between them as he hugged Noah one last time. "Thanks, sweet boy. Love you."

"Rafa, you're going to miss your plane if you don't go soon."

He straightened, his knees cracking. "Okay, Team Benson. Eddie and I will see you in six weeks -"

"-Or less!" Olivia and Noah intoned together, causing chuckles all around.

Damn it. It turned out the distance between "love" and "in love" was the length of the line through airport security. Six weeks was going to be a very long time after all.

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 _It's canon-compliant until they tell us otherwise!_


	32. Words

_A/N - Thanks to Italian Doll for the beta once again! :)_

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"Amanda just came into my office; I have to go." Olivia smiled into the phone, holding a finger up to the detective to let her know she'd be another moment. "Sounds good... Okay... Love you." She disconnected the call and tucked her cell into her pocket. "Hey, Amanda. What's up?"

"Hot off the presses." She handed her the file she'd been waiting for. "Everything okay with Noah?"

Olivia was already digging in, looking for specific information in the reports. "Huh?"

"Is he home sick?"

"No, he's fine."

"Oh. No school today?"

"No, he's at school. Why do you ask?"

"It's just - " Amanda glanced at her watch. "- it's only noon. I figured if he was calling you in the middle of a school day, he must be out sick or something."

"Oh, that wasn't Noah. It was Barba," Olivia told her absently. "Where's the tox screen results? There, got them."

Olivia was fully immersed now, and fully unaware that Amanda had been struck dumb.

It was nearing the end of five weeks into Barba's six week work term, and they'd gotten into the habit of phoning one another around midday in New York, which was the start of Barba's work day in Washington. The time difference meant that they rarely had the opportunity for any significant discourse during the work week, but these little check-ins served as a connection point, a bright spot in the day, something to look forward to. Only when they both happened to be available, of course.

(Neither admitted to the other the lengths they went to in order to make sure they _were_ available for these calls, at least not until much later after his return during a particularly tender, teasing moment.)

Saying "I love you" had previously been reserved for heavier moments between them, and certainly not a part of their regular routine. But whenever Olivia was home for Noah's bedtime Skype or call, Barba would always sign off by saying "love you guys" and they would both answer "love you too". It was a habit that had occasionally and offhandedly migrated into their morning conversations as well, despite Noah's absence. An expression of affection, of friendship, and certainly not of whatever assumption had put the huge grin on Amanda's face.

It took Olivia some time to notice it. "What?"

"I just... I had no idea."

Completely oblivious, not at all aware of what she'd said let alone how her words could have been misconstrued, Olivia was about to ask for clarification before all hell broke loose and it was forgotten.

Well, forgotten by Olivia. Amanda, not so much.

Olivia didn't make it home for the evening call that day, but it happened anyway under Lucy's supervision. Barba's responsibilities gave him a little more leeway than hers, so unless an alternative had been worked out ahead of time, every day at 4:30 - 7:30 p.m. in New York - he excused himself from whatever he might be involved in and found a quiet corner - in an office building, at the courthouse, at a restaurant, pulling off to the side of the road if need be - so he could call or Skype Noah and they could read the next chapter of their book.

Barba had intended for this ritual to be private, having no desire to make a spectacle of himself with his new albeit temporary coworkers. But he had been caught redhanded by the King County DA himself part way through week three when the man had let himself into Barba's workspace mid-Skype and had led to him being introduced to Noah and Olivia.

The encounter had precipitated a discussion between the two men about Barba's future with them in Washington and the more long-term job offer that was in the works. It was earlier than the DA had intended to broach the subject, hoping that the more time Barba spent with them the more likely he might be to consider it. But the DA had been previously under the impression that Barba was unattached; if he had a kid at home, a partner, that could make a move a much harder sell. By the end of their talk, Barba had made it clear that he was flattered, but uninterested, at least for now. His home was New York, and most certainly his heart was there.

To his credit, the DA never brought it up again, and never made Barba feel less welcomed after his polite refusal. And though it didn't seem that way for the first embarrassing day, it also ended up being to the DA's credit (and Barba's benefit) that he had not felt compelled to be as closed-lipped about what he'd walked in on. Being outted as someone who took the time to read to a kid that wasn't even his didn't make Barba lose his coworkers' respect, but it humanized him, made him more relatable. And suddenly the same people who had been largely professional and deferential in their dealings with him - understandable due to his reputation and presentation - felt freed up to make things personal, to get to know him and be known by him.

After that there was no reason to hide his daily connections with home, and a few times Barba had even recruited some "special guests" to join in. The assistant he shared with one of the ADA's did great voices. The social worker for three of the young girls he was coaching as witnesses had participated a few times, trading off paragraphs while the girls themselves held Eddie the Elephant on their laps. The DA had even pinch hit when he'd interrupted Barba mid-call with something time sensitive; while Barba had been apologizing to Noah about having to sign off early, the DA had offered to take over his phone and the book, and Olivia had revealed later the man had done a great job endearing himself to Noah.

There was also no reason to completely bottle up the fact that while he was putting on a good show of having it all together, while his work was not suffering, he had been suffering being away. The first night he'd been invited out for drinks and plied with scotch in exchange for the scoop on his personal life, it had served as a release for him to even speak Olivia's name, to admit his feelings in even the broadest terms.

The story of Noah sending his favourite stuffed animal with Barba, and his confession that he did often sneak him around in his briefcase in case the opportunity for a good picture to send home arose, had led to one of his slightly tipsy coworkers insisting that they set up a private Instagram for Eddie the Elephant and help him populate it for Noah's enjoyment (and their own).

Eddie had a full and rich experience after that, as a trio of Barba's friends - yes, he had friends now - made it their mission to tag him in at least a few pictures a day. The kids involved in the case all came to know about Eddie and would look for him and greet him by name wherever he happened to be stationed - in Barba's office, in reception, or somewhere more "creative." Many started asking to hold him during their interviews.

There were no pictures of that, of course, as the identity of the children had to be protected. But while Noah was delighted by Eddie's Instagram feed, while he got excited every time a notification came up on Lucy or Olivia's phone about a new image or comment, while he had learned to recognize and could name a good number of the people Barba interacted with each day from their selfies, it was Eddie being used to comfort the kids that made him the happiest.

He didn't know the details, had only been told that something bad had happened to them and Barba was trying to help them. Both Barba and Olivia had separately wondered if Noah might harbour some jealousy that Barba was away from him and spending time with other children. But it turned out Noah was proud of that fact, talked about it at school and with Lucy often, and maintained that - through lending his favourite stuffed animal - he was helping too.

Eddie wasn't the only one enjoying a rich and full experience. Barba's evenings and weekends became a lot less lonely as he was invited not just for drinks but into people's homes, sharing meals with partners and families. He started to explore Seattle and was never wanting for tour guides. And while he still tended to keep his most personal thoughts and feelings private, those he grew closest to became very entertained by and even invested in Barba's relationship with Olivia, and his hopes and fears about what might happen when he returned home.

Because he would be returning home. For as much as he was enjoying the work environment, the developing camaraderie, for as much as he had to admit that if things were different he would probably really like it there if he stayed, there was no part of him that was even tempted.

The day that Amanda had walked in on Olivia's conversation with Barba had turned into quite a difficult one for the squad, and Barba had been surprised to receive another call nearly 12 hours later, close to midnight in New York.

Olivia was exhausted, raw and unfiltered as she described not only the events of the day but her feelings about them. It took everything in him to not put her on speakerphone so he could start looking for plane tickets. But by the time Olivia had talked herself out, she'd deemed the opportunity to process aloud cathartic and comforting, and Barba believed her and stopped making plans.

Her "I love you" to close the conversation that night had not been offhanded or automatic. And even if she hadn't prefaced it with less distilled expressions of "thank you" and "I'm so glad we're friends" and "I miss you" he would have known what she was trying to say.

His "I love you" was unadorned by other words but meant the same, and more. One more week. She'd know the rest soon enough.


	33. Return

His plane was scheduled to get in at 9:30 at night. Well past Noah's bedtime and late for Olivia to be out when she had court in the morning, so they'd decided he'd Uber home and join them for breakfast if his jet lag allowed.

That was the plan set earlier in the week, anyway. But as that final day wore on, Barba had decided on an alternative that involved him going straight to their apartment and potentially never leaving.

Olivia had an alternate plan as well, and Lucy was prepared to stay over with Noah so she could surprise Barba at the airport.

Noah's plan ultimately won out. His big beautiful eyes and long lashes and cute dimples had carried their weight, but ultimately it was his choice to forgo whining and pleading in response to her first "no" that saw her giving in, as he instead simply crawled on her lap and said, in his most sincere and genuine voice, "Please, mommy?" before wrapping his little arms around her neck in a tight hug.

And so by 9:20 p.m. the Bensons had taken over a bench in the baggage claim area, Noah in a hooded sweater and a pair of Thomas the Tank Engine pajama pants which had been a concession in the negotiations he'd had no trouble with. Olivia of course had demanded it from the practical standpoint of wanting him to go right to bed when they got home. Noah just loved wearing his PJs in public.

Noah was busy working on a "Welcome home Rafa" sign using the supplies Olivia had brought with them. He was chattering away as he worked, keyed up by the late hour and the excitement. He didn't seem to notice or care that his mother was too distracted to follow along.

She was so distracted she didn't even realize Barba had entered the room, not until Noah caught sight of him and took off running to meet him, the sign he'd been making fluttering to the floor, forgotten and left behind. Olivia would scold him later. Currently she had other things on her mind.

By the time she caught up, Barba's carry-on luggage was on the floor and Noah was in his arms. Barba's smile was beautific, growing all the more so when their eyes met. He shifted Noah to his hip and as she approached he reached for her hand.

Olivia had other ideas, her hands going to his face instead as she pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't passionate or heated; her son was right there, after all, though oblivious with his eyes effectively hidden in Barba's shoulder. Nor had it been planned. Whatever thoughts or ideas she may have entertained during his absence, she had not come there intending to lay the proverbial cards on the table in the middle of the airport.

But that was definitely what she had done, was doing, planned or not. No one watching would mistake this kiss as platonic, and Barba hadn't either. The brief foray of his tongue into her mouth before he came to his senses confirmed that well enough.

And when they separated and with a small, shy smile she said, "Surprise!" and he wasn't sure if she was referring to them being there to meet him or to the quality of her welcome, he quickly realized with a settled, grounding certainty that he was surprised by neither.

Later he would reflect that in some ways it had seemed like such a long journey for them to finally arrive there, as though it had been years in the making. In other ways, though, in ways he connected with the most, it was all so new. It had only been a few months since he had left the DA's office and they were free to see a romantic relationship as a possibility. And it had only been six weeks since he'd been unable to consider anything but.

The reflection had come later because there was no time just then for such an indulgence. The adults noticed almost simultaneously that Noah's body was shaking, and their attention shifted to his well-being when they figured out he was silently sobbing.

This was unexpected. Noah had seemed to have done amazingly well handling Barba's absence, helped along by their daily bedtime routine. This rather violent release of tension and anxiety that likely even Noah hadn't realized he was harbouring was profoundly touching, and if Barba hadn't already been rendered speechless by Olivia's greeting he certainly would have been speechless now.

She also seemed to be having trouble finding her voice, and so few words beyond basic small talk were exchanged as they waited for his luggage to round the carousel except for Noah's rather pitiful request that he go home with Barba that night, which was immediately agreed to. By the time they were on the road toward Manhattan Noah was back to talking a mile a minute and the adults could barely get a word in edgewise, which was fine with them.

That's not to say where was no communication between them. The looks exchanged said plenty, as did the solid weight of his hand on her thigh as she drove.

There was one chapter of the book left; they'd actually skipped the night before so that they could finish it up when they were physically together. As the boys got comfortable under the covers of Barba's bed with the stuffed elephant retrieved from a suitcase squished between them, Olivia used Barba's phone to snap a picture and post it to Eddie's Instagram feed, both to mark the moment and as a way of letting Barba's new friends know that he'd arrived home safe and sound.

Olivia joined them, laying atop the covers as the book was completed and discussed and Noah eventually drifted off, content to be a spectator. Content especially because it allowed her to bide her time. She had no idea what to say, how to start, when words between them were finally required.

Thankfully Barba had the wherewithal to kick things off, though his self-deprecating half-smirk revealed he was in the weeds along with her. "So. The whole 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' thing..."

"I know. Potent stuff."

"It's witchcraft is what it is. I didn't even make it onto the plane."

His confession soothed her in its implication that she hadn't been alone in her change of thinking while he was gone, that his reaction at the airport hadn't been a knee-jerk one. Her smile wasn't exactly confident, but it was bright. Radiant. "So. What now?"

"Well... I'm honestly not sure." And by that he meant not sure what HER wants, HER intentions were. He'd spent the last weeks settling his own.

"Shit." Olivia rarely cursed, but a glance at the clock behind him had drawn it out of her unfiltered. "Is it really after 11? I told Stone I'd meet him at 7:45 - I'm on the stand at 9 if nothing changes."

"You hate early morning prep," he pointed out needlessly.

"Yeah, he wanted to prep tonight, but I had somewhere else I wanted to be."

He grinned smugly. "You're welcome to stay. I can take the couch."

"If I was going to stay, no one would be on the couch, dummy," she chided fondly as she crawled from the bed and got to her feet. "But the last thing that anyone needs is for us to lose this case because you didn't let me get any sleep."

There was so much to unpack there, but he let it drop. It took him longer to extract himself from Noah's grip and untangle himself from the covers without waking the boy, and by the time he caught up with her she was crouched by door tying her shoes.

As soon as she stood she stepped into his space, hands settling low on his hips. "I'll drop off a bag for Noah on my way to work. Can you get him to school or should I call Lucy?"

"Got it covered," he told her, his own hands adjusting the collar of her jacket before going to her waist.

"It's okay if he's late, if you or he want to sleep in a bit."

"I may take you up on that." Jet lag was going to be a bitch.

"Okay. Noah and Lucy went grocery shopping for you earlier today, so you should have lots to make his lunch."

"Wait, is Thursday still pizza day at his school?"

"Yeah, you're right. Though he was sassy with me earlier this week and I think I included the loss of pizza day privileges in the punishment package."

"What do you say we give him a pass based on circumstances."

"Okay, but just this once."

The most common and domestic of conversations. Like nothing had changed.

Nothing except the distance between them, which was very, very little.

One or both of them might have attempted to steal a kiss, but they opted instead to hold each other, a tight and lingering embrace. And when she finally broke away with some difficulty he didn't tell her he loved her, even though it had become a careless part of their conversation over the last weeks. She too held her tongue, though her affection for him, her happiness that he had returned, and something new, something more, was almost tangible in the way she looked at him.

As he closed the door behind her, he caught sight of his own dopey, love-sick expression reflected in the small mirror in his hallway. Though much was left unsaid, he was grateful that it appeared they had arrived there together, because there would have been no hiding his feelings from her. And he was grateful they no longer had to worry about conflict of interest, because he was convinced that one look at them both and everyone was going to know.


	34. Preoccupied

"You look happy," Stone remarked as Olivia entered his office. It was a rarity for her to come even close to happiness in that space with him, and not just because of the gravity of their usual meetings. There was a knot that would often appear in her stomach when she let herself acknowledge that the room which should have held Barba's things, Barba's presence, now held something very different. "Do you know something I don't?"

She did, of course. But not about the case that they were meeting about before heading into court that morning. What she knew was that Barba was home and that instead of a knot her stomach was humming with butterflies and that if she got her way then at the first opportunity she got she'd be kissing him until they couldn't breathe. (She'd thought of little else since she'd left him the night before, and it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed to not drag him out of bed that morning when she'd dropped off Noah's bag.)

Thankfully when she and Stone got down to it she found she was able to focus on her work just fine, with the happiness and excitement of her personal life being converted to energy, to fuel. Though she knew she was smiling too much, and just couldn't help it.

She smiled all the more when at 11:55 she received a text. _You free for a call?_

 _Headed into recess. Give me 5._

Her phone vibrated in her hand just as she was exiting the courtroom. "You do realize you don't have to phone me at noon now that you're back," she teased, voice full of affection.

"I didn't have to phone you while I was gone, either," Barba reminded her warmly. "I have on occasion been known to do things just because I WANTED to, you know."

"Oh, I know. And I'm looking forward to getting to know it better." Hearing him clear his throat, she giggled coyly, ducking her head and lowering her voice. "You okay, Counselor?"

"Oh, I'll manage." And after a moment of recovery, he shot back, "You, on the other hand, appear to be going full-on school-girl there, Lieutenant."

"I am not!"

"Liv, you're literally twirling your hair on your finger. Which is really adorable, by the way."

She stood up straight and cast her eyes around the room, spotting him leaning on a window sill near the exit. It took a lot of effort to saunter instead of skip as she pocketed her phone and made her way over to him. "What are you doing here?"

Casual was an effort for both of them.

"Noah made it to school in time for pizza, but insisted on packing YOU a lunch." He passed her the brown bag, purposefully avoiding their fingers touching.

"Oh, NOAH insisted, did he?"

"I may be guilty of planting the idea. I thought a lunch bag might be less conspicuous than flowers."

Even the comparison to that kind of gesture caused the butterflies to swarm. "You are the picture of restraint and decorum."

"Unlike you," he teased.

She was twirling her hair again, and when he smirked at her she realized it and stopped. "Yes, unlike me, apparently. Maybe we should get out of here before my reputation takes a nosedive. Walk me to my office?"

"Yes, because your reputation will be safer there." But he fell into step when she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, an innocuous position that they'd assumed dozens of times throughout the course of their acquaintance, occasionally when leaving this very building. As they walked they spoke of Noah, how he had slept in just long enough that Barba wasn't quite a zombie despite still feeling the effects of the time change. They spoke of how cute the boy had been that morning, asking to stay in bed and snuggle and review Eddie's Instagram feed together. (It was then that Barba had noticed the picture that Olivia had added the night before, and the teasing and sweet comments left by his friends back in Washington, the greetings for Noah.) They spoke of the case, her testimony that morning, the defense tactic that had nearly sunk her before she'd brilliantly (Barba's assessment, which had echoed Stone's) recovered. Normal, commonplace, comfortable conversation.

How could everything have changed when nothing had changed?

As they stepped out of the crowded elevator (a flimsy excuse to stand so close, to press against each other's sides, her fingers still curled at his elbow), Barba asked, "Need me to count to ten before I sneak in after you?"

"As if you haven't walked me to my office a million times before."

"That was when I had a reason."

"You HAVE a reason. You brought me my lunch."

It turned out no sneaking was necessary anyway. The bullpen was far from vacant but her squad was blessedly absent.

She sat behind her desk with him across from her, making quick work of her lunch though they lingered over the container of cherry tomatoes which she generously shared. Their thing. And she had no illusions that he hadn't packed them with that in mind.

Olivia received a text that needed immediate attention, and Barba just watched her as she booted up her laptop to chase down a needed file.

And the task complete, she caught him watching. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Well..." He warred with himself for a moment, but eventually gave in to honesty, as risky as it felt. "I was actually just thinking that you are a very beautiful woman."

She flushed happily. "Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere. Just so we're clear." But after a fond look she found herself eying him critically. "You seem kind of torn about it. Is it the earrings?" A joke to draw him out, but it wasn't necessary. He rarely had an issue with honesty, not with her. And now that she'd demonstrated she wasn't opposed to his line of thought, he was feeling a little more secure about sharing it.

"I may have been admiring you AND chatisting myself a bit."

"About what?"

"It just feels kind of dishonouring to our friendship and you as a woman to be suddenly... 'Objectifying' isn't the right word."

He looked to her for help, but she just raised an eyebrow and said, "Go on." She was obviously enjoying his discomfort. Or, moreso, the admissions couched within it.

"Well... It's no secret that I've seen you in various states of undress over the years. Yet now you're fully dressed, but I find myself... preoccupied. And it just feels very strange to be looking at you and and letting myself think about you that way."

Olivia was apparently untroubled by it, unable to fight the full, wide grin that had overtaken her features. "Would affirmative consent help?"

He barked a laugh. "It couldn't hurt."

"And how about commiseration?" She came around her desk and perched on the edge, just outside of his reach. "To settle your concerns, I am willing to admit to being similarly preoccupied." His expression in response made her roll her eyes, but she still added, "Even if you weren't wearing the hell out of those jeans, I'd still want to kiss that proud smirk right off you face."

A small cough. "I...would not be opposed to that." And then they were both chuckling and he was getting to his feet, standing before her close enough that the toes of their shoes were touching. "So, we're really doing this, huh?" His tone was light, but Olivia caught the uncertainty in his eyes.

After a long pause, she drew and steadying breath and laid her cards on the table. "Well...I've had six weeks to think about this. And it turns out by the way that despite our arguments otherwise six weeks really IS a long time."

"No kidding."

"Yeah, I'd rather us not do that again." Her hand came to rest on his cheek, a tender action, before it slipped around and her nails raked lightly at his hairline, causing him to shiver. "Anyway, I just wanted to be clear that I..." She signed at her inability to find the right words. "I guess I just need need you to understand that… whatever this thing between us is stretching into now, what I really need is what we had before."

"What you need is to stop doing what you're doing to my neck if you're hoping we can unring the bell here." His joke fell flat when it was obvious he thought that was exactly what she was suggesting.

Her hand left his neck, sliding down his shoulder and arm soothingly, catching his fingers in her own. "Calm down, Rafa. Just because I want to hang on to what we had doesn't mean I'm not open to seeing where something new might take us." Her shy smile was nearly his undoing. Amazing how he could reduce her to this after all they'd been through.

Soothed, relieved, and ridiculously happy, Barba wasn't so far gone that he missed what she was actually trying to express. "Best friends first," he affirmed. "Always. No matter what." When had the lump appeared in his throat? He squeezed her hand. "Olivia, I am just so..."

"Sentimental?" They shared a grin. "Do the rules still apply now? Do we still have to stop when you get all mushy?"

"Actually, I'm thinking drunk, horny and sentimental should probably be the prerequisite for all substantial conversation moving forward."

"Well, then, we should put a pin in this until another time, because I'm not going to start day-drinking at work." She glanced behind him. "And, if I'm not mistaken, we're about to be interrupted." A meaningful look, a final press of her fingers, and she took a small step away, breaking contact.

Fin knocked on the open door before breezing inside. "Hey, Counselor. Good to see you."

"You too, Sargeant." The men shook hands.

"Sorry Liv, but Carisi and Amanda picked up the guy from yesterday; they're on their way through with him now. I thought you'd want to take first crack at him."

"Thanks, Fin. Let him sweat a bit in the interrogation room and I'll be back in a few."

"Will do." He clapped Barba on the shoulder. "Don't be a stranger."

As she walked with him slowly toward the elevator, Barba spoke up. "I hope you don't mind, but I talked to Lucy earlier. She said she could come over whenever and stay until 9:30 tonight. I know it doesn't give us a lot of time, but I thought maybe after you tucked Noah in you might be up for a late dinner."

"Like, a date?"

He smiled sheepishly. "I know. Seems kind of late in the game for all that. But we might as well do this thing right." He gave her a sideways glance to gauge her reaction, and was pleased to see HER looking so pleased.

"As long as you don't mind going casual," she agreed easily. "I'm not sure I'll have time or energy to get dressed up."

"Hey, I'm wearing the hell out of these jeans. I'm good for casual."

The elevator car arrived, and it was empty. They both hesitated, and then he pulled her inside after him, slapping the floor number and "Close Door" buttons in quick succession before he backed her against the wall and claimed her lips with his own.

Her hands slipped inside his jacket, her arms pulling him flush against her, making him smile against her busy mouth. But then he couldn't help but pull back slightly to tease, "Aren't you going to tell me to stop trying to make out with you?"

His clever and fitting call-back to previous foolishness delighted her. "No. Aren't you going to say we should have a conversation about this first?"

"I think we've done enough talking for the time being, don't you?"

Her kiss was her agreement.

They only had two floors of privacy and Barba was slow to pivot away when the door opened and they were no longer alone, but they were joined by strangers, civilians, who barely acknowledged them. Olivia allowed him to take a small step away but they still faced each other, still had their hands on each other. She ran a thumb along his lower lip to remove the faint hue of her lipstick before meeting his eyes and being struck by the raw tenderness she found there.

Based on his earlier confession of preoccupation, based on the way her hips had cradled his during their brief indiscretion, she might have expected to see lust in his intent gaze instead. It warmed her to her toes that his preoccupation was not limited to her body. She could certainly relate.

He kissed her again as they reached the ground floor, brief and sweet. "Call me later," he said simply, but she heard "I love you". And that's what he meant.


	35. Date

Barba knocked on Olivia's door at around 7:45 that night. This time there were flowers.

It was Lucy who greeted him. They'd already gotten the pleasantries out of the way, having met briefly earlier at the park after he'd collected Noah from school at his request; she was on duty through supper and into the evening, and they had rendezvoused for the handoff.. They had enjoyed a warm embrace, mutual words of thanks regarding her house sitting while he was gone, and some time to catch up and reconnect. So now, less than 4 hours later, she didn't even bother with a hello. "Why didn't you use your key?"

"I'm, uh, doing a thing here. Or was trying to. Liv about ready?" He'd purposely come after the time Noah should have been getting settled in his room, knowing that if the boy caught sight of him it would drastically cut into the short window they had before Lucy needed to leave.

"Wait." Lucy looked at him, looked at the flowers, then looked at him again. Really looked. "Oh, my God. This is a date. You're going on a date."

"I guess." He flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and happiness.

"So it's official?!"

"Looks like it might be heading that way," he responded carefully, and laughed as she threw her arms around his neck.

"This is amazing! Have you told your mother yet?"

He groaned. "I most certainly have not, and you won't either if you know what's good for you." An idle threat, but it was no matter. He knew Lucy wouldn't out them.

"I'm so happy for you both," she mumbled into his shoulder, adding as she released him, "And if you hurt her I'll be first in line to kill you."

"Yes, and the next three in that line will be armed. I get it."

Olivia appeared beside Lucy. "What are you doing out there? Why didn't you use your key?"

"I just can't win, can I?" He stepped in and offered the flowers. "If you must know, I didn't think letting myself in would be appropriate for a first date."

Olivia immediately grew sentimental and, not bothering to be discrete since obviously Barba wasn't hiding anything, she rewarded him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth for his effort.

Lucy clapped her hands in delight. "You guys are the cutest. This is so awesome." Barba rolled his eyes and snuck a rude gesture at her just out of Liv's eyeline, making Lucy laugh. "I'll put those in water for you so you guys can get going. I'm sorry I can't stay longer. If I had known what was happening I definitely would have cancelled my plans!"

"That wouldn't have been necessary," Olivia assured her. "We appreciate you staying as long as you can. I promise we'll be home by 9:30."

"I have no doubt you will, since I have Lucia's cell number and I'm not afraid to use it."

"You wouldn't," Barba challenged.

Lucy smirked. "Try me."

"Enough, you two," Olivia intervened, pushing him out the door. "At this rate we won't even have time for dinner if we're still planning to walk"

They held hands, and it was a revelation. It should have seemed like such a small gesture in the grand scheme of their ridiculous, rather out-of-order relationship, but for whatever reason it felt like a momentous shift to be out in the world, casually connected in this way for all to see. Barba found himself reflecting he was glad that though they'd shared a bed and so much else in the past they had never done THIS. Olivia found herself wishing that their destination was a little further away so she wouldn't have to let go just yet.

The restaurant, one they'd been meaning to try for awhile, had a welcoming and cozy atmosphere. And there wasn't a lull in the conversation. Interspersed with talk of Olivia's work, her life, of Noah, Barba had a lot of stories to tell after six weeks of keeping much to himself, not having wanted to seem like he'd been having too much fun without her.

But now he had no such qualms, and she seemed determined through her probing questions and engaged expression and the way she kept touching his arm to draw from him every last detail.

It was only when he launched into an unfiltered account of the job offer he received and refused that he noticed the change in her. Imperceptible to the casual observer, certainly, and easily missed even by those inclined to be attuned. But he'd long ago catalogued that tiny twitch of an eye, the curling of her fingers into a loose fist. And he'd also learned that the guilt they reflected was best addressed head-on.

"Olivia Benson, don't you dare."

"How can I not?"

And Barba found himself swallowing down a lump in his throat, not because he felt bad for making HER feel bad, but because she hadn't tried to hide it or laugh it off. Her first instinct was to trust him.

HIS first instinct in response was to reassure her by clearing the table with a sweep of his arm and making love to her right then and there.

For the sake of propriety he went with his second instinct, which was to reassure her with words instead.

"I won't say it had nothing to do with you and Noah, because it's been a long time since that was true about anything that mattered." (He'd collect his points for that sweet sentiment later in the back of the taxi, her hand clutching the collar of his jacket as her tongue explored his mouth.) "But even if wanting to be home with you wasn't a factor, and even if I thought I'd be able to adjust to life outside of New York, the work they were offering wasn't a good fit, not anymore. So while it was a great team and I enjoyed the people and the atmosphere, I wouldn't have been content there in the long term. And I'm getting too old to settle, in any part of my life."

The natural segue to the type of work he DID want to do would have to wait, as they were both cognizant of the time; they would need to leave in the next few minutes to relieve Lucy before the deadline. But Olivia, accepting his words, soothed by them, couldn't help but jest, "Well, I'm glad to hear you aren't just settling for ME."

His response came with an automatic smirk but there was no mistaking his absolute sincerity. "On the contrary, I feel like all my years of refusing to settle are finally paying off."

They hadn't realized it had started to rain, so they ended up hailing a cab. Barba provided the address of Olivia's apartment as well as the required time of arrival before slipping the driver a twenty for his trouble. And so the 6 minute drive became closer to 15, and neither Olivia nor Barba could have recounted where the extra time had taken them.

It would not have been proper for a current NYPD sex crimes detective and a former ADA to have engaged publically in something inappropriate or untoward, and even if it was unlikely they'd ever be recognised neither would have been comfortable with taking any chances. But by the time the cab pulled up in front of her building and the driver discretely cleared his throat, they had learned a lot about one another, about how they kissed and liked to be kissed, about what was too much and what was not quite enough.

Of course, none of it was quite enough. And that was part of the fun. There was something to be said for time spent leisurely becoming acquainted in a way they'd yet to share. And the fact that they'd separately resolved that it would go no further than the cab ride home, not that night, leant itself well to the situation, helped control the pace, the intensity. This wasn't foreplay. It was simply play, something to be enjoyed for itself.

And it was being enjoyed.

"Why don't you send Lucy down and I'll make sure she gets where she's going safely?"

"Mmmm…" She hummed against his lips. "That would be nice of you."

"What can I say? I'm a nice guy."

"Or, you could just - "

"Don't even suggest it, Benson," he warned. "We're still under the 24 hour mark, after all. It wouldn't be proper."

The cab driver snickered, unable to help himself. Barba and Olivia laughed as well.

"Okay, I'd better get out of here before Lucy calls your mother and outs us."

"I promise delaying that is for your own protection. You will be immediately locked into Sunday brunches and wedding planning."

"Or maybe you just like having a dirty little secret."

"There's nothing dirty about this secret."

"Yet."

"OUT!"

One last kiss, and she exited the vehicle. Lucy took her place soon after.

"Why aren't you up there with her?" she chastised. "Noah's asleep."

"Please, what do you take me for? Do you really think I'm the type to put out on the first date?"

She facepalmed, and it was not an exaggeration of her feelings. And though he knew it was because this was only a "first date" in the loosest of ways, he couldn't help but tease her. "I'm sorry, kid. Does talking about old people having sex for the first time offend your millennial sensibilities?"

"Does it make me a creepy millennial perv to say no? Because while I would really appreciate you sparing me the naked naughty details, you two have been my favourite will-they, won't-they obsession for, like, three years, and I'm going to need you to honour my investment by giving me all the NON-naked details I can stand! Starting with the airport yesterday!"

They had lots of time as she was meeting a group of friends at an Escape Room in another borough at 10. It would have made sense for him to be dropped off first, but there was far too much to talk about. Barba wasn't about to admit that he had offered to share a cab for this very reason. His heart was so full that he NEEDED to gush to someone who cared, to release some of the emotional pressure.

As they neared her destination, Lucy said, "So you're really trying to tell me you haven't been secretly in love with Liv all along?"

"Straight men and women CAN just be friends, you know."

"Says the man who is very obviously love-struck right now."

"Point conceded," he said with a self-deprecating shake of his head. "But the reality is that up until my resignation we were both very aware of the potential for conflict of interest, and I think it was just easier not to let our minds even go there."

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm extremely glad you're letting your minds go there now."

She reached for her wallet by Barba gestured for her to put it away. "This one's on me."

"Buttering me up for all the overnight babysitting you're going to be asking me to do when the two of you finally get down to it?"

"I thought you didn't want the 'naked naughty details'."

"Does it bother you that every time I DO stay overnight I'm going to know exactly what the two of you are doing?" she joked. And then she paused, her face changing. "Oh, God. My millennial sensibilities just kicked in."

The laughter of both Barba and the driver followed her from the cab.

After giving his address to the driver, Barba sat back and sighed contentedly. "Ever been in love, my friend?" he enquired congenially.

"Yes sir." The driver plucked a photograph from his visor and passed it to the back seat. "Married 19 years this month." A smiling woman and two teenage boys.

"Lovely family. Congratulations."

"To you as well. I wish you and your lady friend many happy years together."

And after only just barely 24 hours of being officially something more than friends with Olivia Benson, Barba was already committed to seeing that wish come true.


	36. Faces

It hadn't been Barba's intention to sleep his Saturday away, but he'd managed it quite effectively. It was after ten when he glanced bleary-eyed at the texts that had awakened him, and when he learned that Olivia was on call and had just caught a case, that was enough to let him fall back to sleep for another few hours.

When he arrived at the precinct just before two, he should have been dragging from the drastic change to his sleep schedule combined with the confusion of the time difference between Washington and New York. His excitement to see her somehow managed to cancel all that out.

Olivia was on the phone when Barba entered her office. "You need to stop it right now," he scolded as soon as she hung up. "I can't visit you at work if you're going to do that thing with your face every time I walk in the door."

"And just what thing am I doing with my face exactly?"

"You look like someone just presented you with a basket full of puppies."

She half-heartedly tried to school her features with only moderate success. "You should be flattered, Barba. Everyone loves puppies."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I am absolutely flattered. That's not the issue."

"Do tell."

He had stalled in his approached, not trusting himself. But her invitation to share felt very much to him like an invitation to come around her desk. Which he did, perching with feigned casualness. "You know very well that when you get all sentimental it makes ME all sentimental."

"Like you've ever needed help with that." But then her hand curled around his forearm, and just the gentle contact set her off again.

"Olivia, stop." This time it was a warning. The door was open, the blinds were open, and while the bullpen wasn't full due to the weekend it had its share of potentially prying eyes.

"Would you rather me look like I want to rip your clothes off?"

"Oddly I think I'd find this face harder to handle." Harder to resist. "Please tell me you're getting out of here at a reasonable hour today."

"It's looking that way so far, knock on wood. I hope you don't mind spending the night in; I promised Noah we'd be around if I managed to get away."

"I was actually going to suggest it. Any objections to me heading over before you get home?"

The hand that was still on his arm slipped lower, catching his fingers. "It's been a long time since you asked permission," she noted.

He gnawed his lower lip, a bit embarrassed at being called out. "I know. It's weird that I'm suddenly inclined to dial back the taking of liberties. Maybe it's just because I've been gone for so long."

"Yes, because nothing else has changed," she jested lightly.

"I want to kiss you so much right now." And perhaps it was because of HIS face, which he was sure in that moment must be mirroring the indiscreetly fond expression that had reappeared on hers and led to his admission, but he could see that she was actually considering it. Weighing it. And why the hell not. They didn't work together anymore, and there was nothing stopping them.

Nothing except that she was the boss and this was her office, and while it might not be against any rule it would certainly be unprofessional. But apparently such internal arguments weren't convincing enough because she found herself getting to her feet and pressing her lips to his for a long moment.

Barba hummed contentedly before breaking away. "Now I DEFINITELY can't visit you at work."

Another kiss, quick and sweet. And she almost told him she loved him, but as had been pointed out, he'd been gone for so long and much had changed. So instead she told him not to be silly, and that she'd see him at home later. And she kissed him once again because she just couldn't help herself.

Olivia arrived just before dinnertime and was able to slip in with no one noticing. Lucy's shoes were still by the door, but so were Barba's. That wasn't uncommon, as Barba often insisted or invited Lucy to stay "on duty" after his arrival, not wanting to take away her income just because he had nowhere else to be. In those times Barba would usually entertain Noah while Lucy took care of the other household and "personal assistant" tasks that had become a part of her role.

But sometimes, like today, he just joined in with whatever she and Noah were doing. And today, Olivia got a chance to just stand back and watch… and stealthily record on her phone, because she couldn't NOT.

All three of them were in aprons, all three of them in her tiny kitchen, singing along (using various cutlery as microphones) at full voice with the music playing and dancing while they finished making supper. At one point Barba offered a hand to Lucy, and when she accepted it he spun her into his chest before spinning her out again. Noah's delighted laughter was precious, priceless. And Olivia's heart felt like it would burst.

Tucking her phone back in her pocket, Olivia slipped off her shoes and tried to sneak past, not wanting to interrupt their fun. But Barba easily spotted her and stepped out to greet her. He kissed her cheek, pulled her against him and then they were dancing a quick step. Noah was laughing again as he watched and begged Lucy to dance with him the same way.

Barba dipped Olivia as the song ended, looking over at Noah as if to challenge him. A good effort, but then Lucy was on the floor and Noah had fallen on top of her, both of them giggling until they could barely breathe.

When everyone was upright again and the volume of the music had been turned down, Olivia asked Lucy if she could stay for dinner. And Lucy was about to protest, not wanting to intrude, but was convinced by Noah's insistence and consoled by Barba's pleased expression when she agreed.

At the table, Olivia contributed very little to the conversation, finding herself fluctuating between huge smiles and fighting tears, both for the same reason. A little voice in her head was telling her it wouldn't last, that the new relationship euphoria was just chemical and would fade soon enough. But when she felt Barba's foot come to rest against hers, when his earnest and sweet expression sought to engage her, she told that little voice in her head to "fuck off" and determined that she had every right to enjoy the chemical euphoria for as long as it lasted.

After dinner Olivia was released to shower and change while the others took care of clean up. When she returned Lucy was gone and Barba and Noah were playing Lego on the living room floor. She watched from the couch for a while before suggesting they put in a movie. She didn't care which one; she just wanted an excuse for them to be close.

Noah had been recently taught how to safely handle microwave popcorn on his own and ran to the kitchen to exercise his new skillset. This gave the adults just enough time to have a conversation on a topic that miraculously neither had yet to consider.

It began when after cleaning up the toys Barba pulled himself on to the couch, specifically the side of the couch opposite to where Olivia was settled. "You're really far away," she pointed out unnecessarily.

"Leaving space for Noah."

"He hasn't grown that much since you've been gone, Rafa." She crawled over and settled against him. "Or were you being metaphoric?"

"Not intentionally, but now that you mention it -"

"I haven't told him about us," she interrupted, not needing to mention that they hadn't even defined between themselves what this was, hadn't discussed rules or expectations or labels. "But we don't need to hide it."

"He's a smart kid."

"And he loves you. If anything, he'll be thrilled."

It meant so much to Barba that Olivia wasn't protecting her son, protecting herself, by choosing to wait. And Olivia would later reflect that it was a pretty big deal for her too, despite the fact that she'd made the decision so easily in the moment. Or maybe because of it.

It had been easy enough with Ed because Noah had been too young to understand or care. Olivia had made it clear to him that her priority was her son, that he was welcome there after Noah was asleep but that any time she had a chance to be with Noah after work or on her days off, that is where she would be, and he likely would not be invited.

He'd gotten to know Noah mostly in the mornings, and seemed happy to help out, to give Olivia a few extra minutes of sleep by responding to the boy's cries, by plucking him from his bed and getting him ready for the day, feeding him breakfast while she was in the shower. She appreciated it, but didn't rely on it.

Nearer the end she relaxed the boundaries and they spent some days off together, shared dinner from time to time. Ed was comfortable with Noah, liked Noah, and didn't seem to resent Noah for being the reason that he could never come close to being number one in Olivia's life.

Yes, it had been easy enough with Ed. But in the end it was also easy enough to leave him.

This was so different. Rafael Barba was so different.

Barba loved her son, and loved him as something separate from her. His relationship with Noah didn't exist to help her or please her. If she suddenly blinked out of existence and out of memory, she imagined that their bond would carry on without her.

And she imagined that if their romance, their friendship, were to implode, Barba would never fully walk away and she would never fully shut him out. Because Noah would never allow it, and because neither of them would break his heart even if they'd managed to break each other's.

Noah soon returned with the popcorn. "I only touched along the top so I wouldn't get burned," he stated proudly, holding out the bowl so his mother could complete the task by ripping the bag open and dumping its contents.

"Well done, Noah!" Barba praised. "Soon enough you'll be cooking us all dinner!"

And then the popcorn was on Olivia's lap and Noah was on Barba's lap and Olivia was back to moving between smiles and tears because she had MISSED this, missed them all together, and it just felt so damn perfect.

When the movie was over Barba nominated himself to supervise bedtime, and accepted a kiss on the lips from Olivia for his troubles. A kiss which Noah saw, and that Barba knew that he saw.

"Do you mind if I tell him?" Barba asked her after sending Noah to brush his teeth. "My mom's first...friend...after my dad died, we never really talked about it, and I can remember it being very weird and kind of traumatizing. I know it's not the same, but I think we'll all feel more comfortable with an open line of communication." Then he had a thought. "I'm sorry. YOU should be the one to tell him, of course. When you're ready."

But then her face was doing the "thing" again, and her hand was on his cheek. "You go ahead and tell him. I'll be in here for backup if you need it."

God, he loved her.

He wasted little time, not wanting to lose his nerve. After he'd tucked the boy in and perched beside him on the bed, he began. "So, buddy, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Man to man."

Noah looked stricken. "Are you leaving again?"

"No! No, sweet boy, it's nothing like that." He smoothed Noah's curls then laid a soothing, steady hand on his chest. "Kind of the opposite, actually." He took a deep breath. Why was this so difficult? "So your mom and I, we, ummm… Well, we… When two grownups really like each other… Well…" Another breath, and a change of tactics. "Do you know what it means when grownups are boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Noah told him, though he didn't elaborate and Barba frankly wasn't sure he wanted him to.

"Okay, well I just wanted to let you know that your mom and I… What I mean is… Well, I guess your mom and I have decided that we are going to be like boyfriend and girlfriend, more or less. Okay?" Noah's expression didn't really change, and Barba wondered if he really DIDN'T know what that meant. "So that means that I might be around a lot."

A long pause. "Uh-huh," Noah said finally, though only because he felt like Barba was waiting for a response and didn't know what he was meant to say.

"And that sometimes you might see us hug or cuddle or kiss. And that sometimes I might sleep over."

The little boy's eyes narrowed slightly now, though it looked distinctly more like confusion than disgust.

"But if that ever bothers you," Barba said quickly, "you can just tell me, okay? You can always be honest with me and your mom about stuff like that." A long pause, and still no real reaction. "So… how does all that sound to you? Honestly?"

"Ummm…"

"Yeah?" Barba coaxed, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"But weren't you already boyfriend/girlfriend?"

Barba blinked. "Pardon?"

"Because you always hug and kiss and stuff. And you're always here. And sometimes you sleep over."

"Oh."

"I told my teacher that you were mommy's boyfriend. And my friends."

"Did you."

"Yeah." And after a moment he grinned, obviously completely unconcerned and ready to move on. "Can we get a new book? A chapter one?"

Barba chuckled. "Sure, buddy. Maybe we can go tomorrow to pick one out. But how about tonight we read one of our favourites?"

Later, after Noah had nodded off, Barba rejoined Olivia on the coach.

"Well, how did it go?" she tried to be nonchalant, but she rightly suspected Barba knew she'd been a bit anxious about it.

"Noah is a smart kid," he said simply, repeating his words from earlier in the evening. "And it would appear that he gave us his stamp of approval a long time ago." He filled her in, and they both laughed at the boy's insight. "So, that's a relief, I guess."

"You didn't honestly think he would be bothered, did you?"

"I suppose not. But it's still nice to hear it from him." He took a sip of the wine she had poured for them and set down his glass. "So, what do you want to do tonight?"

When she all but pounced on him, straddled him, he was neither surprised nor disappointed.

It was some time before they came up for air when Barba finally spoke. "Liv, you need to stop or I'm going to embarrass myself." And her expression in response caused him to add, "That was NOT meant as a challenge."

"I don't think think it's about embarrassment," she teased. "It's about you being fastidious and not wanting to make a mess." She rolled her hips and began kissing him again.

"It's your couch," he reminded her, smirking against her lips. But she wasn't wrong.

"Barba, I'm raising a kid. This couch has survived its fair share of bodily fluids."

"Okay, that's gross. I nap on this couch."

"Sorry to put that image in your head. I'll try for some better connections." She slipped a hand briefly in between them; an awkward angle but when she palmed him through his jeans it had the desired effect. "You know, we could just move this to the bedroom."

"As tempting as that sounds right now, I'm determined that our first time is not going to be an unplanned quickie while we pray your son doesn't wake up."

"You realize that's probably going to describe most of our sex life until Noah goes to college, right?"

"Fair enough. But if I get my way it could very well be the last 'first time' that either of us gets to experience. And I'm one to believe that some milestones should be given a little ceremony, to say the least." He never would have said it if blood was getting to his brain and she wasn't moving her hips in just the right way to create just enough friction. Those kinds of declarations were premature, if nothing else. Even if he meant it, it would be months, maybe years, before he should be given it voice.

But while he was trying to wrangle his brain cells to figure out a way to dial it back, it occurred to him that she'd led the way by suggesting she expected them to still be having sex after Noah graduated high school.

It occurred to her too. "I get it now," she announced, drawing away slightly. "Your rules. 'Horny' is a terrible time to be having serious discussions."

"In my defense, I wasn't aiming for a serious discussion when you climbed onto my lap."

She rested her forehead against his and started to laugh. He was right behind her, and it was the perfect reaction to the situation.

"Okay, but I'm not kidding. You need to get up before I add my DNA contribution to the couch."

She kissed him firmly before standing and getting a better view of her handiwork. He was tousled and untucked and looked fairly debauched, but he also looked proud, which made her think she probably looked much the same. "More wine to help you cool down?"

"What I really need is a cold shower."

"Make it a hot shower and I'll join you." She meant to be funny. She really did. But the hungry look he gave her made her suddenly feel very powerful, and neither of them laughed that time. "Or maybe we need to call it a night."

Barba gnawed absently on his lower lip as he considered the options. "Well…"

She just watched him, trying to look open to whatever he decided even though her arousal definitely gave her a preference. When he stood and slowly stepped toward her she still wasn't sure what course he had chosen, and the exciting uncertainty caused her to shiver.

"Are you on call tomorrow?"

"No."

"Do you think Lucy could stay with Noah overnight and take him to school on Monday?"

She smiled. "I can certainly ask."

He scooped her phone up off the coffee table and she took it from him. "You should. Because her answer might affect whether I can bring himself to leave right now." He crossed his arms to keep himself from distracting her as she dialled, but he was still standing close enough to hear both sides of the conversation, and even the knowing lilt in Lucy's voice as she readily agreed to the plan.

In the end Barba did go home following a few further minutes of tenderness, his departure eased by the knowledge that the next night they'd have the time, space and privacy they both craved, wherever it might lead them.

But 'goodbye' just didn't seem to either of them to be quite adequate to mark their parting. So when Olivia said the words 'I love you' aloud, it was far from a slip of the tongue, and Barba's echoed reply was equally thoughtful and deliberate. And Barba couldn't bring himself to tease or chide her about the sentimental expression that had returned, making it hard for him to leave for a reason different than before. Instead it just made him feel so blessed, so privileged, to be someone she allowed to so deeply touch her heart that she couldn't help but wear it all over her face.


	37. Special

**Author's notes:** Yes, it's been a minute. I thought this one might be over, but when the mood strikes, it strikes! My sincere thanks to Anni and Natalie for their kind and insightful betas!

This one will be better in context, so I'd recommend backing up to at least chapter 33 (Barba's return from Washington) to get reoriented if it's been a while for you. Or, heck, if you're feeling ambitious, why not start back at chapter one!

 _ **Please be warned that the latter part of this chapter does contain adult content that would rise to the level of an M rating!** _If that's not your bag, no worries - I have a warning marked within the story so you know when to stop reading!

* * *

Olivia usually left shopping to Lucy, but with all that was going on she thought she could benefit from something mundane and normal to calm her nerves. Early afternoon on Sunday Barba had met the Bensons at Key Food, a grocery store in their neighbourhood. He announced his presence by grabbing a bag of marshmallows off a shelf and tossing it into the cart that Noah was pushing.

"Rafa!" Noah wrapped his arms around the man's waist and didn't let go. It was a more effusive greeting than Barba would have expected considering he'd just seen Noah the day before. But though so much had happened since his return, he recognized that in actuality very little time had passed and they were all still adjusting to him being back from Washington. This would explain why he had instinctively reached down to lift Noah into his arms and hug him properly for a long moment.

Eventually he deposited Noah into the main section of the cart and helped to shift some things around so he could get comfortable. Olivia handed her son their shopping list and told him he was in charge of navigation. This made their trek through the store a lot less orderly and efficient, but the adults weren't going to complain as it allowed for Olivia's hands to be on the cart while Barba's hands were on her, at her hips, the small of her back, squeezing her shoulders. And it was all so domestic and yet so new and lovely.

On their way to the aisle containing dishwasher detergent, Barba was prompted to share how his visit that morning with his mother had gone. When Noah had heard the parts that interested him and had checked out of the conversation, Olivia asked what she really wanted to know. "Did you tell her?"

"Nope. I wanted to give you a reprieve before the meddling starts."

"YOU a reprieve, you mean."

"How about we say "us" and leave it at that?"

She just grinned. "And she didn't figure it out?"

"She could see that I was relaxed and happy. She assumed it was because I'd enjoyed my time in Washington, and that was really all we talked about."

Brunch had taken place close to his old neighbourhood. He had arrived early and had told the cab to drop him off a few blocks away so he could walk, which gave time for memories and reflection. It occurred to him that he wanted to bring Noah there someday so he could tell him stories of what life was like for him growing up.

"There's only barbecue sauce left on the list," Noah announced, and his mother praised him for being able to deduce such a difficult word.

As Noah took a moment to try to determine which direction to go, Olivia turned to Barba. "Do we need anything for tonight?" she asked, her slightly lowered voice making the question seem much more suggestive than she meant it to.

"I'm well stocked for any and all eventualities," he assured her, smirking.

"'Any and all', huh?"

"Well, that's if you bring your own handcuffs."

After stopping by the apartment to put away the groceries, they gave in to Noah's request to play in the park. Barba excused himself to go home before supper, and Olivia didn't stop him because she needed time to prepare. She fed Noah, only lightly snacking herself as she wanted to avoid feeling bloated and heavy going into her date. Then after sending the boy to his room to play Lego and wait for Lucy, she locked herself in her bathroom. She was glad she'd spent some time that morning on several of the more onerous self grooming tasks. What was left was more fun, and when she was done she looked good, she smelled good, and best of all she FELT good.

Lucy arrived at 6:30 and did her best to hold her tongue, but it was clear that she was completely aware of where Olivia was going and what was planned. When she all but pushed her boss toward the door and told her to get out of there and have fun, Olivia blushed and Lucy laughed. Then suddenly Olivia embraced her, thanked her, and Lucy squeezed her back, understanding that the thanks went far beyond her making it possible for Olivia to have a night out.

Olivia had opted to do casual rather than try for sexy in her appearance and her demeanor, and the way Barba looked at her when she arrived at his place immediately assured her that she'd made the right choice.

As he led her inside, she said, "I've got to admit, I thought you might get all silly about this and I'd be met with rose petals and candles and soft music."

"You haven't been in the bedroom yet."

She frowned. "You didn't."

"No, I didn't. I think I know you a little better than THAT." He faced her, smiling. "And just to be clear, there is no hurry, and no expectations. Whether or not we at some point get naked will not in any way dampen how glad I am that you're here."

She laid a tender hand on his cheek and said in a serious, sincere voice, "As long as getting naked isn't off the table."

He laughed and took her overnight bag from her. "It most definitely is not." He led her into the bedroom and placed the bag on his bed. "Anything in here you don't want me to see?"

"Nothing you haven't seen before," she said with a dismissive wave, watching as he proceeded to unfold and unpack the garment bag section, hanging her outfit for the next day in his closet. She grabbed her toiletries and brought them to the bathroom, returning to see him deposit the rest of her clothes in of one of his dressers.

"I cleared out a drawer for you." He paused. "I hope that doesn't freak you out."

"Nope, not at all. Very thoughtful of you, Counselor."

"I do try, Lieutenant."

And then it happened, something so foreign and unexpected for them: An awkward pause and an awkward silence.

"So. Uh… what now?" Barba blushed cutely and it made Olivia a little braver.

"Well…" she began thoughtfully. "What would we be doing right now if we HADN'T essentially scheduled a sex date?"

"Before or after...?" He gestured between them.

"Let's play it safe and say 'before'."

"Well, after Noah would go to bed, you'd be working or half asleep on the couch, and I'd probably be doing your laundry or something."

"So what you're saying, Cinderella, is that the thrill is gone."

They shared a chuckle. "I'm teasing, of course," he assured her. "We could have a glass of wine and try for casual conversation, I suppose. Though we could also go out for awhile."

"Actually, it's a really nice night. Maybe just a walk around the block to work out our butterflies?"

"Do you actually have butterflies?" He was in front of her now in the middle of his bedroom, toe-to-toe, his hands coming to rest lightly at her hips.

"You don't?"

"Oh, I definitely do." His half smile was self-deprecating. "I feel like I'm 17 again and worried about not being able to unhook a girl's bra if the need arose."

"Then it's your lucky day, Barba - I'm wearing a sports bra. Nothing to unhook."

"Well, that's a relief." And then they were grinning, and then kissing, and then he was gripping the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it over her head. "Liar," he accused when he discovered that she was NOT, in fact, wearing a sports bra, but a simple white underwire with a front clasp.

"Guilty," she admitted. "But in my defense it seemed to help bolster your confidence. Now why don't you show your teenaged self a thing or two." He chuckled against her mouth as her lips found his again and she guided his hands to the clasp, which he released with no difficulty. "First try. I'm impressed."

"Shut up," he pouted, nipping her lower lip and then soothing it with his tongue before drawing his focus downward. "Remember when you told me there was a big difference between mostly naked and actually naked?"

"Vaguely." Was her voice shaking? His hands had stalled, effectively holding the garment closed and maintaining her modesty. "Are you about to tell me I was right?"

"Hmmm… Not sure yet. But I guess we're about to find out."

Though her phone was on the kitchen table where she'd dropped it on her way in, the ringing made them both jump.

"Of course," Barba said with a resigned shake of his head.

"No, it's fine. If it's Lucy, she'll call your cell if I don't answer. Everyone else can wait." The ringing stopped, and she kissed him again, trying to recapture the moment. But when he didn't immediately respond, she pulled back to ask, "What is it?"

"My phone is on the counter."

"And?"

"And I put it on vibrate so we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Of course."

He kissed the tip of her nose. "We've got all night," he reminded her. "You… well, here." He reattached the clasp, allowing his fingers to lightly brush the underside of her breast before pulling his hands away. "I'll go get both of our phones."

When he returned, she was back in her T-shirt. "Was it Lucy?"

"Nope, it's Sonny," he said, even as the ringing started again. He handed it to her and couldn't help but grin at the frustration in her voice when she answered.

"Carisi, I'm off tonight. This had better be good."

It _was_ good, but was definitely not something that she needed to handle. But by the time she'd listened and had redirected him to Fin to run point, telling him not to call her again unless something was literally on fire, any confidence she and Barba had gained from their previous interaction had escaped the room.

"So. How about that walk?" she suggested after she hung up the phone.

With no destination, their pace was slow. His hand in hers was warm and solid. Being out in public where nothing was going to happen brought back their courage, and after chiding themselves and each other on their foolishness, their easy camaraderie returned.

"Can I ask you something I've been curious about?" Barba broached.

"Of course."

"I'd be concerned that it would kill the mood, but then Carisi has already done a fine job on that."

"We've got all night, Rafa. I'm sure we'll recover. What's your question?"

"Well, you've been with SVU for a long time. I've been interested to know how that affects your feelings toward sex in general. And I know that rape is about power, but there's still a sex act wrapped up in there."

"Huh." But after a few thoughtful moments, she turned the tables. "You're not exactly new to the scene. Has it changed things for you?"

"I think it has, in some ways. Though it's not well tested as to how that translates into actual encounters - I'm not exactly Cassanova."

She bumped against his shoulder. "Is this the point of the evening where we have to list previous sex partners?"

"Is that a thing now?"

"No, but in this moment I'll admit my interest is piqued."

"How about you go first?"

She felt no hesitance. "The only people I've slept with in a good long time are the ones you already know about. You?"

"There was a woman I was casually seeing when I first made the move to Manhattan, but that tapered off pretty quickly. We reconnected a few times over the years - "

"'Reconnected', huh? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

He smirked and squeezed her fingers. "I wouldn't venture to guess. But yeah, other than her, no one since I met you."

"Really."

"You sound surprised."

They stopped at a crosswalk, giving her time to turn into him, her free hand on his chest. "I think it's safe to say objectively that you're an attractive guy with a lot going for you, including some pretty snappy suits that I'm sure have seen you get hit on plenty."

"Kind of you to say, even if your bias is showing." He pressed his lips to hers for a long moment, and then the light changed and they kept walking. "But to be honest, women tend to hit on me when they find out what I do - well, did. It's the men that hit on me because of the suits."

"I'll bet," she told him, not at all skeptical of his claim, as she'd had occasion to see it with her own eyes. "But no one you wanted to take home? Or 'take home to mother'?"

"Definitely not the latter. A few temptations on the former, maybe, but over the last year at least I haven't exactly had a lot of time to be out getting hit on."

"Because you've been at my place doing my laundry."

"A sacrifice well worth it." He dropped her hand and slipped an arm around her waist, a position she mirrored. "So I don't think you answered my original question."

"No, I guess I didn't." They walked in comfortable silence as Olivia considered it. "I think more than anything my job has made me more deliberate about sex."

"Like, more cautious?"

"No, not cautious. Though maybe in a way - I mean, I haven't really had a lot of interest in casual sex, and maybe what I do plays a part in that. But in terms of sex within relationships, it's more that I try to be aware of the choices I'm making, and how the person I'm with is affected by those choices. But when I'm with someone, I'm not equating that with the things I've seen. Is that what you meant?"

"Kind of. But I guess I more wondered if sex still has a lot of meaning for you. Like, if you can still see it as something special when you've also seen it used as a tool for such horrible abuses."

"Ah." She was following better now, and correctly sensed he wasn't looking to be placated or reassured but to actually know her thoughts on the matter, so she gave herself the time to form them. "I can't say I've ever consciously drawn those parallels, and I don't know that I could point out anything that my therapist would label as coming from some kind of unconscious trauma. So yay me for effective compartmentalizing, I guess."

"You deserve a medal."

"Or a plaque at least." They grinned at one another and then decided on a left turn, their second, so that they were now headed back in the right direction but just one block over. "But I'll admit I have a habit of using sex as a different sort of tool, and maybe _that_ made it a little less special."

"What do you mean?"

It took her some time to put it into words, as it was something she'd never spoken of with anyone before. "I've definitely found myself using sex to try to create deeper intimacy, or at least the illusion of it, when it just wasn't happening on its own. And I'd justify it by telling myself I was so busy out saving the world, and that it was okay that I didn't have the time or the energy to really put in the work on my relationships. It was always a convenient shortcut to fall into bed then try to figure things out. Know what I mean?"

"I understand completely, and I think we might be quite similar in that way."

They walked silently for a while in contemplation. And then she stopped him, smiling brightly. "But you know what's great about us, Rafa? We've already done the work."

"You bet we have," he agreed readily, relieved by the thought. "We've got intimacy in the bag."

"Right? We totally nailed it, and we didn't even realize we were trying."

"That's worthy of a medal AND a plaque." He always loved it when things between them grew playful, and he was learning that it was made so much better by the addition of open flirtation and being able to kiss her with tongue. "So if old habits don't have to die hard in this case, what do WE get to use sex for, if not to try to create intimacy?" he asked after he finally pulled away.

"Hmmm… I don't know. Just to reflect the intimacy we already have, I guess."

He'd been expecting her, baiting her, to make a joke about pleasure, potentially a crude one. But her response instead took his breath away with its depth and sincerity. He pressed their foreheads together, their breath mingling. "Then I guess sex can still be pretty damned special after all."

They didn't speak again until they were back at Barba's place. "How's your butterflies?" she asked him as she toed off her shoes.

"They appear to have flown away. Yours?"

"Same."

"Awesome. Then let's get down to business before Carisi calls again."

"If he does, I'll let you answer."

 _ **RATED M SECTION STARTS HERE!**_

This time it took him multiple tries to unclasp her bra, but in his defense he managed it with his teeth while both of them giggled. But once it had been removed completely some of their silliness dissolved, replaced in the absence of nervousness by pure arousal.

Her pants soon followed, and while he remained fully clothed, Barba kept his hands and mouth busy. After a few minutes he paused to ask, "Is this okay?"

Affirmative consent. Even after all they'd been through, he was looking for affirmative consent.

"I promise I won't be shy about telling you if anything ISN'T okay, and I hope you'll return the favour."

"I will," he promised earnestly, so earnestly they both chuckled.

"But for the record, what you are doing right now is definitely okay."

"So it would seem. You're very squirmy."

She was too far gone to be embarrassed. His light exploration of her upper thighs and what lay between them, the tracing of his fingers along the dampened fabric of her panties, the feel of his mouth against her earlobe, her neck, her breasts, it was all lovely, exciting, and apparently too much.

The orgasm was unexpected and shallow. She pressed his hand harder against her to try to increase the sensation but to little avail.

He was attuned enough to sense her frustration. "Sorry, Liv. I didn't realize you were close."

"Neither did I." She linked their fingers and moved his hand away from her centre. "That one was a freebie. The rest you have to work for."

"I believe I offered 'several' and 'sensational'. And I intend to deliver."

"I appreciate your commitment," she teased. "I just need a few minutes."

"Of course. Tell me when."

"Don't worry - you'll know."

It all ended up serving to Olivia's advantage, removing some of the urgency and allowing her to give in further to chasing the experience rather than fighting to prolong it. It also allowed her to focus on Barba and his pleasure.

She took her time undressing him, feeling like she was unwrapping a gift, kissing his skin as it was bared to her. His button-down and undershirt divested, she went to work cataloguing where he was sensitive, where he was ticklish, where a shiver or a catch of breath might be drawn from him by her tongue or teeth or the light scraping of her nails.

Eventually she moved down the bed and pulled off his socks. "So is it true what they say about men with big feet?"

"Yes, actually. It is," he deadpanned.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, but Barba just shrugged. When he saw her glance toward the front of his pants he had to laugh. "If you don't believe me, you're welcome to find out for yourself."

"Oh, I intend to." She wasted no time, her hands running up his legs over his khaki slacks, brushing over the bulge at his fly before releasing the button and carefully pulling at the zipper.

Barba appeared to be in no hurry and just lay watching her to see what she would do.

His boxers were silk, and she liked the way he felt beneath them. "Lift your hips," she instructed, and he did so as she eased his trousers down and off, leaving his underwear in place.

Now that they were similarly attired she mounted him, kissed him, her breasts pressed to his bare chest and his hands travelling anywhere they could reach. When she began to move against him he stopped her, flipping them over so she was prone on the bed. And with little ceremony he removed her panties and buried his face between her legs.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed as his tongue lapped at her opening and then slipped inside. "Jesus Christ, Barba." Her hands were in his hair, and it was unclear even to her whether she was trying to push him away or keep him in place.

"Don't hold back," he told her, kissing her inner thigh before returning to his work, adding a finger, then another, deep strokes, using this thumb and tongue to stimulate her further.

She was writhing, panting, largely unaware of the string of mild curses and exclamations and encouragement leaving her mouth. And then she was coming undone, and it WAS sensational, made all the more so by how he managed to follow her cues and read her body so that he was easing off just as she needed him to.

He disappeared soon after, but she was too blissed out to notice or care. He returned smelling of mint - how considerate! - and with a warm damp cloth which he gently ran between her legs. Task completed, he lay beside her, facing her, and waited for her to come back to her senses.

Eventually she rolled onto her side and then she was kissing him lazily, humming in contentment. "I very much enjoyed that," she told him unnecessarily, running her fingers down his chest, his stomach, toying with the waistband of his boxers.

"I very much enjoyed that, too," he said sincerely with a tender smile.

"Well, that's lucky." She kissed him again. "Just give me a moment and I'll return the favour."

"I would definitely not be opposed, but take your time. I am also very much enjoying this." And he certainly was. He loved kissing her, holding her, the feel of her bare skin against his. He loved the knowledge that this is what she wanted, that she had chosen this, chosen him, not on a whim but after years of getting to know each other, of growing their friendship, their relationship, their intimacy.

But then her hand was expertly wrapped around him and he was suddenly unable to comprehend why they hadn't been doing this all along.

After finally getting naked he soon figured out she was planning to take things slower than he had with her, and that suited him just fine. Her fingers and mouth were exquisite and the build incredible. Still, by the time she reached for the condom he'd laid out on the bedside table, he was more than ready to move things along.

He was strangely touched when she laid back against the pillows and looked at him expectantly. The fact that the strongest woman he knew was willingly and enthusiastically inviting him to assume a physical position of power brought a lump to his throat. If the blood that was normally servicing his brain hadn't been diverted to parts south, he would have recognized that it was exactly because he was the type of man to experience a rise of sentiment and not of ego in this situation that she was so open to giving up her control.

He settled his body over hers, supporting his weight but flush against her. "I am so in love with you," he heard himself blurting before he could stop himself. But he could tell by the tears that came to her eyes and the ferocity of her kiss that she felt the same way.

He entered her carefully, waited for her to adjust and begin to move before he set a slow rhythm. Their kisses grew languid, leisurely, to match, and they were able to just enjoy each other for a long while in this way.

"I've got to say, counselor, your stamina is impressive," she commented cheekily when he started to pick up the pace.

He let the teasing compliment pass without response. He certainly wasn't about to tell her that he'd taken care of himself as soon as he'd arrived back at home in the hopes it would take the edge off and allow him to last a bit longer than he suspected he otherwise would, especially based on the previous evening and how close he had come to embarrassing himself when they were still fully clothed.

Now he could feel the pressure building, but he still had the wherewithal to focus on her. "Can you finish this way? What do you need?"

"I think I can. Just let me know when you're close and I can help myself along."

"Do you want to change positions?"

"Yeah, maybe. Let me get on top." He rolled them so he was on his back, managing not to break contact as she raised herself to an upright position astride him. She rolled her hips experimentally, and was able to find some friction. "Yeah, this is good. What do YOU need?" she asked as she began to move again.

He thrust up into her, trying to match the rhythm she was setting. "This. You." He palmed her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples. He was starting to lose control, his hips stuttering.

"Just be still," she told him. "I'll get you there."

After a few more answering thrusts he gave in to her, letting her take charge. And now it was him spouting nonsense, first in English and then in Spanish, telling her how good she felt, how beautiful she was, how much he adored her. His commentary punctuated by the undignified slapping of skin against skin, by gasps and shudders. "Liv, are you -"

"Yeah, I'm - " She grabbed for his hand and pressed it against her. "Oh, God."

And before her orgasm had fully crested he had rolled them again so now he was pounding into her and she couldn't quite tell but she thought maybe she was coming again. And then she could feel his body stiffen and jerk before he fell limp on top of her.

It took him a full minute before he was able to move, and even then it was a herculean task undertaken only due to his fear of crushing her. He collapsed heavily beside her, still trying to catch his breath. "Wow."

"Yeah." She looked over at him and he looked back at her, and Olivia found herself unable to suppress a giggle. Before long they were both laughing until tears streamed down their faces and it was perfect, absolutely perfect, and more special than they ever could have dreamed.


End file.
